Stay
by Ada15
Summary: Punk's sick. John's infatuated. At least, that's how it starts for them... John Cena/CM Punk slash.
1. Chapter 1

Eh, for the purposes of this story, John and CM Punk are sharing a room.

This is slash, character based set after Survivor Series last year.

I don't own anyone mentioned in this fic

The frown would not leave John's face. Survivor Series had been one big mess, or at least it had been for him and he was pissed…even more so than usual about what was going on with Rock. Lost in thought, sitting on the bench in his locker room, his attention was on lacing up his shoes.

It was caught, however, when he heard the harsh coughing coming from the man beside him. He glanced sideways. CM Punk was sitting close by. He'd been in the process of changing into his ring attire as well, trunks, black shorts, and shirt already on, as well as one boot. Leaning away from John, he had stopped at the coughing fit that had overtaken him.

John raised an eyebrow. "You alright?" He asked when Punk had finally stopped.

"Lovely," Punk answered but his voice had turned a bit hoarse.

"Didn't start smoking on us did you?" John asked, half amused.

Punk turned a baleful glare on him. "Ohhh. Good one. And people say your jokes are lame." He went back to putting on his boot and John couldn't help but notice that his movements were clumsier than usual. He seemed to be concentrating extra hard on the task.

"Seriously," John pressed. "If we're rooming together, I can't afford you getting me sick."

"Think you have that backwards, don't you. And you're concern is touching." Punk started taping up his wrists.

John shrugged but he did have a point. Punk had been the one who'd won the WWE title the night before. Just thinking about the night before brought John's bad mood back. It wasn't that he was jealous or something of Punk but his night hadn't gone nearly as well.

Oh, no. He would say it wasn't jealousy that he felt whenever he was in close proximity of CM Punk. He had gotten to know the man a little bit in the months since their feud had ended and he may have been developing a bit of a crush on Punk.

"Gotta go open the show."

"Good luck," John called while he watched the man leave.

Xxxxxxx

John did not see Punk again until after RAW ended. He'd watched Punk's match with Dolph Ziggler and, although it had been a good one, John hadn't been able to help but to notice that Punk had seemed a bit on the sluggish side and he'd taken a few bad hits that John knew from experience he should have been able to dodge.

He didn't notice that he was not alone when he walked into the locker room for several minutes, figured most everybody had already left. John himself had stayed a little late, walking the halls, trying to walk off the simmering anger he felt after his own confrontation with Rock.

He didn't notice he wasn't alone until he bent to pick up his bag and finally spotted the man crouched in the corner of the room. John's brow creased in worry. Punk had changed into his street clothes, at least and it looked as if he'd showered, his hair no longer slicked back but falling across his forehead.

Back against the wall, Punk had his forehead pressed against his knees. John knelt in front of him.

"What are you doing?" He asked, hesitating in reaching out to touch the man.

"Trying to figure out if I can get up and make it out of here without puking my intestines up," Punk answered without lifting his head.

John grimaced at those words, at the visual and glanced around the room. He stood and walked back to the bench, zipping up his bag before grabbing Punk's and doing the same. He shouldered both before going back over to Punk and offering a hand.

"Come on."

Punk finally did lift his head, leaning it back against the wall and stared at John, eyes a little glazed over. John waited patiently before Punk finally took the offered hand and John hoisted him to his feet. Punk stumbled upon making it to his feet, automatically leaning into John, who could feel the heat radiating off the man.

Punk did not protest when John lifted one of his arms to wrap it around his shoulders as they made their way out of the locker room, which should have been a worry. Punk was almost never silent. John was of the opinion that it was nearly impossible for the man to keep his mouth shut, especially when he should.

He didn't revel in the feel of Punk so close to him, at least not this time. Not when he could feel the fever that Punk had. He wouldn't want to jeopardize the man's health just so he could get the opportunity to wrap his arm around his waist.

They made it out to his car and John deposited Punk in the passenger's seat. He glanced over when he got in as well. Punk leant his head against the passenger side window, eyes closed, one arm wrapped securely around his stomach.

"Maybe you shouldn't have wrestled tonight," John said.

Punk let out a short, humorless laugh. "Right. I'm sure Johnny would have let me have the night off if I'd asked real nicely."

"Maybe. You ever tried asking anything nicely?"

"I try not to make it a habit." Punk pulled his legs up in the seat and John reached over to turn on the heater when he noticed the shivering Punk was doing. He fell silent as he drove, glancing periodically over at Punk.

When he was finally parked, he went around to the other side to open Punk's door, the other man was fast asleep in his seat. Knees still pulled up, head lolling to the side, mouth slightly open.

Cute was never a word that John would have used to describe Punk in the past. Sexy, maybe. Scruffy, definitely. But that was the word that popped into his head at the sight. He looked cute.

Shaking his head, shaking the thoughts away, John reached down to shake Punk awake. Punk shot forward at his touch, only to be stopped by the seatbelt and then he groaned, putting his face in his hands.

"Come on, we're here. Just an elevator ride and then you can sleep."

"Think I could actually sleep." Punk's voice was slurred a bit this time and he was hardly able to support himself when he levered himself out of the car.

John's lips twitched at the answer. He didn't have to know Punk well to know that the man never slept and he wondered if that had something to do with him being sick. Punk let John drag him through the hotel and up to their room. He didn't even bother taking off his shoes when John dropped him on the bed, simply rolled over onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow.

John waited until he was sure Punk was asleep before he took the man's shoes of himself. He chewed his lip, hesitated. Punk had turned his head to the side, facing John and he reached down, brushing the hair from Punk's forehead and feeling the fever.

It was an exceptionally rare view of Punk, John was sure and he was surprised when Punk leaned into his touch unconsciously. Pulling away, John shook his head once again and went to his own bed, dropping back on it.

Xxxxxxxxx

He woke to the sound of a door banging against the wall. The noise was loud and sharp and John jerked away in surprise, nearly falling off the bed. Disoriented for a moment, he looked around the room. The bathroom door was standing wide open, and the light was on.

John could hear Punk getting sick. He grimaced but his conscious got the better of him and he got up, making his way towards the bathroom. Punk had finished by the time he got there, and was leaning heavily against the toilet.

John crouched and Punk looked up at him with glassy eyes. John was mildly alarmed when he reached for the man and felt the heat coming off him. He did lift Punk to his feet once again, though, and helped him to the sink so he could rinse his mouth out. He didn't seem too fully aware.

John helped him back to his bed and was about to go back to his own when Punk's hand shot out, fingers wrapping around John's wrist and pulling, almost throwing John off balance in his surprise at the action.

"What's wrong?" John asked, concern coming back.

Punk was shivering again, and he tugged at John's arm until John sat on the bed beside him. "Stay," was the only word Punk said, his voice still slurred and hoarse.

John hesitated. He'd imagined several different scenarios where he ended up in Punk's bed. This one had never been one, however, and from the look in Punk's eyes, John doubted he knew exactly what he was doing.

But the pleading look on Punk's face was what really did him in and he relented. His breath caught when, after he'd lain down on his back, Punk wrapped himself around John, burying his face in John's shoulder.

John cautiously wrapped his own arms around Punk and was unsurprised at how good it felt considering how long he had wanted to do it. There was a sting of regret that Punk wasn't fully lucid in that moment but he pushed it aside for the moment. Even if he wasn't fully lucid, he had latched a hold of John for comfort. That counted for something.

John drifted off to sleep sometime after Punk, a small smile on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

I totally can't wait for Punk vs Jericho! This match is going to be awesome. I kind of wanted to write something after the promo Jericho cut Monday. Personally, I don't get why people seem to think WWE went too far with this storyline. They've done much worse stuff and CM Punk _has _cut promo's himself about it back in his indie days so it's not like this was some big secret. If he okayed this storyline, I don't see what the big deal is…

I guess a few people thought this story was a oneshot…I reread it, though, and it does read like a oneshot I guess…

The first thing Punk noted when he woke up was that his head was pounding. The second was that he was warm. Eyes still closed, he moved closer to that warmth. It wasn't until the other man shifted in his sleep that he was made to realize that he was not alone in bed.

He had to concentrate a moment through the pounding in his head to get to the vague memories of John helping him out of the arena after RAW. Punk rolled away from John, buried his face in his pillow, trying to quell the nasua that rose up at the move. With a groan, and when he was sure he wasn't going to lose what little he had left in his stomach, he pushed himself up so that he was sitting.

He still felt like shit and he had to sit still for a minute in order to keep from having to run to the bathroom but at least he was lucid. He pulled his knees up, wrapped one arm around his head. He sat there for several minutes and a small part of him wanted to lay back down next to John and go back to sleep.

He and John weren't exactly best friends. In fact, most of their conversations tended to end up mild forms of the verbal sparring they'd had in the ring in the past but after getting to know John a little bit, Punk actually started liking the man. He wasn't bad company, at least.

Embarrassment burned through him when he remembered that it had been him that had asked John to stay. He really hated getting sick, hated how fuzzy his memories were from the night before, hated how it was really the only time he lost control of himself.

It wasn't that he would mind John in his bed when he was lucid, he'd entertained the thought on more than one occasion. He was also pretty sure, even before last night, that John wouldn't have minded it either. He wasn't completely blind. He'd seen the way John had been looking at him lately.

The problem was that he would never _ask _while he was lucid enough to think about it_. _He'd made that decision a while ago.

Xxxxxxxxx

The hand that landed on his shoulder almost made him jump, brought him out of his thoughts, and he turned his head to meet John's gaze.

"You alright?" John asked.

"Peachy." He paused. "What are you doing in my bed?"

John chewed his lip. "You asked me to stay, remember?"

"Right." Punk sighed and then dropped back down on his back. He brought the cover up almost over his head and twisted onto his side. He really did just want to sleep.

"Okay, well…I'll just…" John's voice was halting, hesitant and Punk tried to ignore the look on his face. _That _look, that morphed into disappointment when Punk didn't stop him from getting up.

He'd been trying to ignore that look since he'd first seen it on John's face. As much as he prided himself on his ability to be brutally honest, hurting John just because he could wasn't exactly appealing and he'd resolved a while ago that he wouldn't bring it up unless John did.

Xxxxxxxxxx

John couldn't help but to be disappointed. Well, at least Punk hadn't freaked out on him when he'd woken up but there had been a part of him that had hoped Punk would still want him to stay when he woke up.

Wishful thinking. John had been doing that a lot lately, since this new infatuation he had with Punk had started to develop. John stared up at the ceiling from his own bed. It was still early, still several hours away until he had to get up, until his flight back home.

John usually wasn't so bad at reading people. It wasn't just last night that had had him hopeful that Punk would ask him to stay in the morning. It was more than that. He was pretty sure he saw the same attraction he felt in Punk's eyes on more than one occasion.

Maybe he had read the look wrong, though. Or maybe he hadn't and Punk was just embarrassed about asking him to stay when he wasn't completely aware of what he was doing. Despite his tendency to speak without thinking, John knew enough about Punk to know that he hated being in situations that were out of his control.

John had seen that aspect of Punk's personality months ago when he'd left WWE with the title. He'd seen it when Punk had gone after Triple H and Vince McMahon. Maybe he shouldn't give up so soon…

Xxxxxxxxxx

"Shit." The word came with a groan as Punk collapsed on a bench in the locker room. His muscles ached horribly and the match he'd just had did nothing to help his stomach. It just had to be the one night when Smackdown was three hours and he and several others from the RAW roster were scheduled for it.

He didn't believe in luck but, dammit, he recognized the fact that the only reason he'd won his match against Ziggler was because Ryder had interfered. He was looking forward to being home, but not the plane ride it was going to take to get there.

"You doing alright?"

Punk looked up at John, who was standing close by, a concerned look plastered on his face. "I'm fine." He stood, probably a little too fast because the world spun and he wavered on his feet.

"Whoa." John reached forward, settled a hand on his right bicep to steady him. Punk blinked a few times. He'd gone into his match with a headache and Ziggler had gotten more than one hard shot in to his head.

"I'm alright." But he did sit back down and bent to pull his boots off.

"Sure you shouldn't get checked out?" John pressed.

Punk shook his head, but he almost smiled at the concern shining in John's eyes. "No. We're off until Saturday. I'm good."

"Alright." John went to his bag, which was sitting on the bench next to Punk and zipped it up. The smile he gave Punk before he walked out the door was bright and Punk could see that look in his eyes again.

Punk watched him walk away, chewed his lip as he thought about the situation. He got the feeling that John knew his infatuation wasn't completely one sided. When his phone rang, he only glanced at the display and a scowl formed on his face. Reluctantly, he answered it.

"What the fuck do you want?"

Xxxxxxxx

When he finally made it back to the hotel, Punk was not in a good mood. He still had a bad headache, in fact his whole body was still aching, and he was _pissed off. _He was beginning to think he needed to change his phone number again. John was sitting on the couch in the room when he made it inside, a movie playing on the television.

"Everything alright?" John asked with a raised eyebrow when he caught the scowl on Punk's face.

"Fine." He dropped his bag by the wall.

"You want to watch?" John gestured to the free side of the couch and Punk eyed him a moment before giving in and dropping down on the couch. It would be nice, after that phone call, to hang with someone who _didn't _hate him.

When John moved closer to him, he should have said something but he _was _exhausted, his head was still pounding, and his nerves were fried. He let himself sink back into the cushions and his anger bled away as he and John made light conversation and mocked the B horror movie playing on the screen.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm really sorry this chapter is so freaking late. I've been having trouble with this story as of late and trying to get back into the flow of things with it. Writing this has really helped me do that and hopefully the next chapter will be out sooner.

If Colt was goofy when he was sober, he was downright silly while drunk. Punk watched his best friend with a good deal of amusement as they sat at the bar. He was pretty sure he was the only one sober in the place and he was damn sure that he was the only person with water in front of him.

Being back home was nice, even if it was only for two days. Being back home on the rare occasion that Colt was as well was even nicer.

"So," Colt caught his attention. "You and Cena get it on yet?"

"Get it on?" Punk asked with a raised eyebrow, amusement in his tone. "No, we haven't gotten it on."

"Why not? Are you going to?"

"No," Punk answered shortly.

"Why not?" Colt repeated. "Thought you liked the guy."

Punk rolled his eyes and wondered again why he had told Colt that. "I do." He pushed Colt back into a sitting position when he started to tilt sideways. "Doesn't mean I'm going to go after him."

He got the impression that John was waiting for him to make the first move after he'd ignored what had happened while he'd been sick. He knew John was disappointed that he hadn't when they'd been watching movies the other night.

"Why not?" Colt asked, proving that he kind of was a broken record while drunk.

"You know why not." At least, Colt knew when he was sober. Liking John was the problem. He liked John a little too much to want John to be his rebound and, at the moment, that might be what he would become if they did start something.

He had the habit in the past of jumping from one relationship to another and he was trying his best to break that habit. It usually led to some pretty messy break ups and somebody getting hurt. And, while he'd been accused of being an asshole more than once, he didn't want to do that again.

"Whoa," he said, putting a hand on Colt's shoulder when Colt started to tip off his stool again. "I think it's time to go."

Colt didn't protest when Punk hoisted him off the stool and pulled one of his arms around his shoulders, although he did yell a loud goodbye to a few of the people in the bar he knew on the way out.

Xxxxxxxxxx

John had finally decided to take his chances. He'd never been a coward with this kind of stuff before and he didn't want to be now. So, he'd waited until the first house show after RAW to find Punk again.

Punk was sitting on one of the benches in the locker room, getting ready for his match later on in the night. One leg pulled up on the bench, he was putting on his boot when John walked over.

"Hey, man." He sat down on the side Punk was facing. "Who are you fighting tonight?"

"Del Rio," Punk answered with a roll of his eyes. "Again. Guess people really must like it when we beat the shit out of each other."

"They do," John confirmed. "Or, I think they like watching you beat the shit out of him."

Punk shrugged. "I was looking for a little variety, though."

"Yeah." John paused. "Look, there was something that I wanted to talk to you about."

Punk stilled and looked up at him. "This isn't about what happened when I was sick is it? Because, look I know what I did and I know what it must have looked like but it wasn't what you might be thinking."

John deflated a little at the words. "So, if I asked you out right now…?" He asked boldly, finally.

"I'd say no unless you're talking about going out as friends," Punk stated bluntly.

"Right," John said. He'd prepared himself for that response but he was still disappointed that he'd gotten it.

Punk frowned and John saw the flash of regret in his eyes. "Look, it's not that I don't like you because I do. It's that I _just _got out of something and I'm really trying to wait until I've at least gotten over him before I start something with somebody else."

"Oh." John brightened a little bit. "I can understand that." He could. And it was better than Punk just not being interested in him at all.

"We can be friends for now, if you want."

"Of course." John flashed him a smile to show that he didn't hold it against Punk, that he understood his reasoning. If he did get into something with Punk, he definitely didn't want it to just be a rebound fling.

"Good luck with Del Rio." John got up as Punk went back to putting on his boots, feeling a bit better about the situation. He hadn't gotten the response he'd wanted but he'd take being friends. Besides, Punk hadn't completely rejected the idea of being with him; he'd just rejected the idea of it being right then.

Xxxxxxxxx

Punk almost smiled at John's response. He shouldn't have expected John to be angry about it, or for John not to believe him. John was much too nice of a guy to push him into something too. It was one of the reasons he liked John so much.

The last guy he'd dated had been a little bit too much like him, a little too cynical, too much of an asshole. The fights they'd had had been rather explosive, the last one leading to a break up that had left both of them pretty much hating each other.

He didn't want to end up hating John, or for John to end up hating him. And jumping into something with John so soon after ending a near two year relationship was a sure way of making that happen. But maybe, after a while…

He scowled when his phone buzzed on the bench next to him and he checked the caller id. He dropped his phone in his bag. He definitely needed to change his number.


	4. Chapter 4

This chapter takes place during the 2011 Slammy episode of RAW. I'm not exactly sure when WWE started airing Jericho's return promos but I'm pretty sure it was before this. I'm going to pretend it wasn't.

"Have I told you how awesome it is that you're teaming with Randy?" John asked as he sat down next to Punk, an amused smile on his face.

Punk was already in his ring gear, legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at his ankles. He glanced sideways at John. "I can't believe you're friends with him."

John shrugged. "He's an okay guy."

"An okay guy?" Punk asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow. "Did that seriously just come out of your mouth about Randy Orton?"

"Come on, you can't hold grudges forever."

"I don't. I think Randy and I beat the shit out of each other enough to put that one to rest but it also doesn't change the fact that he's a fucking psycho."

"You're not going to call him that before your match, are you?"

Punk held up his hands. "Hey, I'll play nice if he does."

John snorted. "Because you're so good at that."

Punk only answered with a half smile before turning his attention back to the monitors. John settled in beside him, stretching his own legs out. It had been a couple of weeks since he'd asked Punk out and been rejected but he and Punk had actually spent some time together.

John hadn't mentioned it again. He didn't want to be the guy who pressured Punk. They spent the next while in easy conversation and John really did like this.

"This again?" Punk asked, drawing John's attention back to the monitors, to the weird, sort of creepy promo hailing the "end of the world as you know it". They'd aired one last week as well and there were already a few theories of who it could be.

"Yeah. Who do you think it is?"

Punk only shrugged. "Undertaker?" He suggested.

"There are a lot of people who think it might be Jericho." John had turned his full attention to Punk as he said it so he didn't miss the way that Punk stilled, or the way that his expression went blank.

"Jericho?" He repeated.

"Yeah. A lot of people think it's him coming back." He paused, studied Punk a moment. "You alright?"

"Fine," Punk answered but his tone was clipped. "Don't you have a match with Henry?"

"Uh…yeah, I do." He frowned, wondering what had caused the change in Punk's demeanor, although he had noticed it had happened as soon as he had mentioned Jericho's name. He was sure that Punk and Jericho had virtually no history in the WWE. They'd tagged together a few times but he was pretty sure that was it.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Even mocking Laurinaitis during his acceptance speech hadn't improved his mood. Punk sighed when he made it backstage again and couldn't help himself…he checked his phone. No messages, no missed calls from _that _number. He considered, just for a moment, calling himself but stopped.

Shaking his head, he suppressed that urge. John's match with Henry would be soon and he wanted to watch it, at least. He still felt a little guilty for the way he'd brushed John off earlier. The match between Henry and John wasn't exactly long but it was what happened after that had him jumping from his seat.

He'd seen Kane's return promos, too, of course but he was sure no one expected Kane to go after John. It didn't make sense, at least that was his thought as he made his way through the halls. Mark Henry was the one who had injured Kane, after all.

He made it just as John was coming through the curtain. "You okay?" Punk asked, stopping in front of him. He'd had that actual worry when he'd seen Kane attack John.

"Yeah, I think so," John answered but he was still holding a hand to his back. "That was weird, huh?"

"A little, yeah."

"What do you think that was about?" Punk asked with a bit of concern. It looked to him like Kane was trying to send some sort of message.

"It's Kane. How am I supposed to know?" He grinned after a moment. "But you're worried about me."

Punk rolled his eyes. "Maybe I was just curious."

"Sure you were."

Punk tilted his head in the direction of the locker room. "Come on."

"Oh, I'll go anywhere with you." John tried for the breathless voice but only succeeded in making himself sound ridiculous.

"Shouldn't you be more worried about this thing with Kane."

"I'll worry later." He snaked a hand around Punk's shoulders and Punk allowed it, surprised that his mood had lifted a bit during the short conversation.

Xxxxxxxxx

Punk was not sleeping. Well, he never really slept but at that moment, he was in a bit more pain than usual. His left shoulder was still killing him from Del Rio mangling it in that ladder, his back was aching from the shots Del Rio and Miz had gotten in with the same ladder, and he'd left the arena as soon as he could.

He didn't really feel up to doing anything so he was resorting to laying on his right side in his bed and staring at the wall. What had happened during the show was Del Rio's standard attack so it shouldn't have been that surprising.

The knock on his door made him groan and he considered ignoring it in favor of staying where he was. Even if he wouldn't be sleeping, he was at least somewhat comfortable and getting up involved aggravating the pains that Del Rio and Miz had caused. And, while he would probably be up early and trying to work them out, for the moment he didn't want to move.

All in all, he'd had a pretty crappy night. John had been attacked, he'd been attacked, there was speculation that it was Jericho who was returning next month, and Laurinaitis had ended up being the one to accept his superstar of the year award. Which just kind of irritated him more than anything.

The knocking on his door hadn't gone away. In fact, it had only gotten louder. Cursing, Punk levered himself up to his feet and went to the door. He wasn't so surprised when he opened it and found John waiting.

"Hey," John said, looking him over. From the concern he could see shining in John's eyes; Punk doubted he was doing anything other than checking him over for injuries. "I know it's late but I wanted to come by and see if you were alright."

"Worried about me?" Punk asked, and he almost smiled.

"I was, actually," John admitted easily.

Punk did smile at that and then stepped out of the way so John could come inside the room.


	5. Chapter 5

"I still say you're not human," Punk stated even as he held up John's phone as asked, recording John in his ridiculous outfit. He couldn't help but to grin at the sight, however. The weight belt John had on only made his waist seem smaller and his chest and shoulders seem bigger.

John didn't answer, only flashed Punk a smile and he recorded John as he achieved a dead lift on over six hundred pounds. He stopped it as soon as John let go of the weight bar and shook his head as he handed the phone over.

"Thanks," John said with another smile, messing with his phone for a moment, no doubt posting the video online.

"That still doesn't make me wish I'd done body builder training," Punk commented, sidling up close to John and re-watching it over his shoulder.

"I'm glad you didn't," John answered, looking him over. "Your shoulder feel any better?"

Punk shrugged, and created some space between them. "It's fine."

"You sure you're going to be alright for a TLC match?"

"When is anyone ever alright for a TLC match?" He was already dreading how much he was going to hurt after that match. "I am going to kick both Miz and Del Rio's asses, though."

"Well, I always knew you never lacked confidence, I guess."

"Why would I? I _am _the best wrestler in the world." Punk smirked at him before turning away. John followed after him, the both of them heading out of the hotel gym and towards their rooms.

"What about you? Worried about Kane yet?"

"I can take Kane." John sounded just as confident as Punk had moments before.

"I still don't get why he's pissed at you and not Mark Henry. If I was him, I'd go after the guy who injured me." He paused. "I did do that with your buddy Orton."

"Please." John held up a hand. "Can you not remind me of your cult leader faze?"

Punk shrugged. "Fine. Can I remind you of your Vanilla Ice faze?" Punk brushed off his shoulder mockingly.

"Hey, I'll have you know that I am very proud of some of the raps I pulled off then. They were awesome."

"Sure they were."

"What are you doing now anyway? You wanna go grab something to eat?"

"Sure. I'll meet you in the lobby in thirty minutes," Punk offered before he broke off from John and they went in different directions.

Xxxxxxxxx

John settled back in his hotel room, for the first time when he wasn't injured during a pay-per-view, he wasn't scheduled for a match. He understood, to an extent, why he wasn't on the card and he was still going to watch.

He'd thought about going anyway to be backstage with the guys but decided against it. It wasn't like he'd be far from the arena if something happened and something always had the potential to happen at TLC.

He was mostly concerned, of course, with the US title and WWE title matches. He was sure of Punk's abilities in the ring but TLC was a different thing altogether. It was a bit more unpredictable and he had no doubt that if Punk didn't win it, that he'd come back to the hotel in a foul mood.

John and Punk had been spending a great deal of time together. The more time they spent together, the more John liked the guy. He was a bit on the cynical side, and chronic insomnia, apparently, could make a person pretty damn irritable but he was also funny and fun to spend time with most of the time.

Of course, he shouldn't have had to worry. Punk did win his match, although it'd looked like, on several occasions that Miz and Del Rio had taken him out of it. John couldn't help but to wince every time a chair shot landed and he had no doubt that Punk would be hurting when he got back to the hotel.

Xxxxxxxxxx

The adrenaline was running way too fast for him to feel any sort of pain. Punk sat on the top of the ladder for several minutes, holding up his championship. In fact, he stayed in the ring for a while after the bell had rung.

He made it backstage and after congratulating Ryder and a brief, and somewhat surreal, conversation with Bryan, he finally made it to the locker room to take a shower and get changed. When he was dressed, his phone rang and, thinking it was probably John, he answered without even looking at the display.

"_Congratulations, Phillip_."

At the sound of the familiar voice, his good mood almost went sour. And at the sound of his first name. There were very, very few people that he allowed that from, that called him by his first name. There were very few people he allowed that close to him.

Somewhere in their two year relationship, they'd gotten that close but that had been before, before their last blow out.

"Don't call me that," he said immediately. "What do you want Jericho?" He wasn't using the man's real name, he wouldn't any longer. They'd passed that point months ago. It was all about respect to him and he seriously doubted Chris respected him any longer.

"_I just called to congratulate you on your win, of course. Very impressive_." Sarcasm rang heavily in Chris' voice and Punk could practically hear the smirk on his face.

"Sure you did. Those promos they've been playing on RAW…they yours? Is that why you've been calling me so much lately? Because you're coming back? You really think you're going to end anything?"

"_I don't know what you're talking about. I have no plans of coming back although if you were hoping for that-" _

"I wasn't," Punk cut him off. He really wanted to believe what Chris had just said too. Chris coming back would only cause him trouble, he was sure of that. Six months ago, he would have been happy at the prospect and it would have been one of the few things that would have made him reconsider resigning with the company but now…

_"Things are about to change, Phillip," _Chris said, his voice turning dark and low.

"Things have already changed, Christopher. Don't call me again." He hung up before Chris could answer and pocketed his phone.

His good mood had officially dropped during the brief conversation. The adrenaline had worn off and all the aches and pains he'd acquired during his match were beginning to make themselves known.

He started out of the arena. All he really wanted to do at that moment was to find John.


	6. Chapter 6

I'd like to say that, yes, Jericho will be one of the bad guys in this fic. This is character based, after all, and Chris has been doing a great job of playing the bad guy since he came back to the WWE. I love it, personally. Jericho's been one of my favorite wrestlers since his debut in WWF and I can't wait for his and Punk's match at Wrestlemania. I still think it's going to be the best match of the night.

By the time Punk made it back to the hotel, the physical pain had definitely made itself known. His mind, however, was still back in the locker room, still back on that conversation with Chris. Compared to the other one's they'd had over the last several months, it had been relatively tame. At least it hadn't degenerated into name calling and yelling.

He really hoped Chris had gotten what he needed to say out of his system but even if he hadn't, Punk doubted he would be answering anymore calls from him. He and Chris had played Hell on each other's lives enough already.

He knocked on John's door when he reached it, hoping that John was still up. Punk was usually awake long after most people had gone to sleep but it wasn't that late yet. He let out a relieved breath when the door opened after only a few moments.

"Hey." John grinned at him, bright and happy.

"Hey."

"So, should I say congratulations or ask you if you're alright?" John looked him over, most likely checking for obvious injuries. He had none but every muscle and joint in his body had begun to ache and he knew that if he managed to get any sleep that night that he'd wake up stiff and in pain.

"Say congratulations and ask me that in the morning." He went past John and dropped face first on John's bed. His head was killing him from when Miz had dropped him on that chair. His right arm was already hard to move from when Del Rio had tangled it in another chair for his submission. His back and ribs ached fiercely from going through a table and from the chair shots from Del Rio. His whole body hurt, really.

John had sat down beside him and, after only a moment's hesitation, Punk reached for him and pulled him down as well. After only a little encouragement from Punk, John moved close to him and wrapped one arm around him.

Punk lay still for a while, unwilling to move, at least for the moment. He'd probably be up early to try and work out some of the aches he'd acquired but for the time being, he settled closer to John.

The last few weeks with John, even if they weren't together, had been different from what he was normally used to. John was so easy going. He wasn't a push over but he had to be one of the nicest guys Punk knew.

His previous relationship with Chris had been filled with explosive fights. They used to fight about the dumbest shit, too and by the end anything, no matter how small it was, could turn into a fight.

With a sigh, he wrapped his arm around John as well. He was sure he wouldn't be sleeping. The physical pain added to the phone call from Chris would most likely keep him up but he was comfortable where he was and even if he couldn't sleep, he could at least relax next to John.

Xxxxxxxx

"Come on, time to wake up."

John groaned at the sound of the voice but he did crack his eyes open. He glanced first at the clock on the table beside him, which read six o'clock before he grabbed Punk's hand to keep him from poking him again.

"What are you doing up?"

"Waking you up. I think you mumbled something about that last night before you fell asleep."

John had fallen asleep rather easily last night, with Punk next to him. It was the second time Punk had pulled him down into bed with him, only this time Punk had been incoherent from being sick.

John looked him over. He seemed wide awake and was already dressed in his work out outfit. "Did you sleep at all?"

"If we're going to be friends, you should probably know that I never sleep."

John rolled his eyes. "Yeah, figured that out. How are you not hurting?"

"I am. I'm one giant bruise which is why I really need to go work that out before I have to deal with media shit." He paused. "So, I'm going to go run and you're going to get up. Then, we're going to have breakfast."

"So demanding," John grumbled but he did stand, stretching a bit.

"You better be up when I get back," Punk called on his way out. John only shook his head. He was usually a morning person but he wasn't used to being close to someone who was up before him.

He headed into the bathroom anyway. Punk would be leaving to do a few interviews in a couple of hours and John did want to spend as much time with the man as he could before RAW that night.

Maybe there was a shift happening. He certainly felt like he and Punk were growing closer and the past couple of weeks had only strengthened his growing feelings for Punk. He was just hoping that was working both ways.

Xxxxxxxx

"So, are we going to ignore what happened last night again?" John asked boldly when they were both back in his room. He'd ordered something and they'd decided to eat there.

"No," Punk said, looking up from his food. "I didn't really plan on being in your bed."

"Then why were you?"

"Honestly? That ex I was telling you about? He called after my match last night and I just wanted…" He trailed off, paused. "I wanted to see you," he admitted finally.

"Shouldn't that be a good thing?" John asked with a raised eyebrow. He could only see it as one anyway.

"What? That he can still affect me like that?"

"No, that you came straight to me."

Punk seemed to consider this a moment. "Maybe," he answered, staring off into space. He shook himself after a minute and stood.

"I really need to go. Got interviews," he said unenthusiastically.

"Alright," John said, mildly disappointed. "Try and be nice."

Punk grinned. "I'll try."

Xxxxxxxx

"So?" Punk stepped in front of John after making it backstage again. He'd opened the show with Ryder and Bryan and was scheduled for a tag match with the two men for later that night.

"It's great, man." John grinned at him. "You know I think Zack deserves it. You do too."

Punk sat down next to him just as John was getting up. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to handle this business with Kane."

"How?" Punk studied him a moment. "You're going to call him out, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am actually."

"Alright." He couldn't really argue against that plan. He'd probably do the same. "Be careful."

Xxxxxxxxx

John came through the curtain alone. He'd had to assure the referee that he was fine several times to get the man to leave but he leaned against the wall as soon as he made it backstage and closed his eyes, still feeling a little dizzy.

"You alright?"

John cracked his eyes open and tried to smile. "I'm fine," he said.

"Sure about that?" Punk asked, stepping closer until he was almost in John's personal space.

"I'm sure." But he could hear the frustration in his own voice. Kane had gotten the better of him two weeks in a row.

"Sure." Punk sounded skeptical. John reached for him, pulled Punk against him.

"I feel much better now," John stated, resting his forehead against Punk's shoulder. Punk huffed out a laugh and pulled him away from the wall.

"Come on."

They started down the hallway, completely unaware of the eyes on them as they walked away.


	7. Chapter 7

Alerts are down on fanfiction again! Am I just on this site more than I used to be or is it having glitches more than usual?

Anyway, this chapter takes place before, during, and after the last RAW of 2011, which took place in Chicago. I've had some plans for this story that involved two other people besides Cena and Punk, so…

"I just landed," John said into his phone as he carried his suitcase towards the exit of the airport. He'd spent the last several days he'd had off at home but RAW was that night. "You know of any good hotels around here?"

_"Sure, I know of a really good one," _Punk answered and John could practically hear the smirk. They hadn't seen each other since the last house show but they'd talked. In fact, Punk had taken to texting him a lot. Sometimes random or weird things, or anything he thought might be funny.

"You sure about this. I could find a real hotel," John offered. He and Punk had gotten increasingly closer but they still hadn't gotten as close as John would have liked. He didn't want to be the guy that pushed, though.

"_Just get here. If I decide I don't want you around anymore, trust me I'll let you know." _

Xxxxxxxx

"About time," Punk said by way of greeting when he answered his front door.

"Good to see you too," John answered with a raised eyebrow.

"Come on." He pulled John inside his house. "Traffic sucks, I know."

"Pretty much."

Punk led him to the room and John sat his stuff down on the bed. Punk's phone beeped at him and he took it out while still standing in the doorway. He shot John and somewhat sheepish look.

"You wouldn't be up to go out would you?"

John shrugged. "Sure, I guess."

"Good, because I may have told my friends that I'd meet them before we have to be at the arena."

"Oh."

"Don't look so happy about it. Look, I kind of told them I'd meet them before I offered you my guest room."

"Right." John chewed his lip and nodded, unable to express why he would be a little wary at the prospect of meeting Punk's friends. Punk talked about them the way that John talked about his brothers. They were family to him.

"I could cancel," Punk offered, though he sounded a little hesitant.

"No, it's fine."

"Sure?" Punk asked skeptically. "They're not bad people. They might give you a little shit but they do that with everybody."

"Its fine," John repeated with a smile at Punk's attempts to make him more comfortable about the idea. He figured if anything was a good sign about how Punk felt about him, it was that.

Xxxxxxxxx

Later, when he and Punk had finally made it back to Punk's house, John was pretty sure of why Punk got along so well with the people they had gone out with. John had had a pretty lengthy conversation with a few of them and Punk had looked happy and in his element surrounded by people he had known for years.

He was pretty sure that was a rare view of Punk and, despite his early wariness, he was happy he got to see it. It was when they were heading back that John began to worry that something had gone wrong.

Punk had remained pretty silent on the drive back to his house and then to the arena.

Xxxxxxxxx

"You alright?"

John had waited until they were walking into the arena to ask the question and Punk turned his gaze briefly on him.

"Yeah, sure." He was just contemplating the decision he'd made while they'd been out. He paused. "You got anything planned for the next couple of days?" The next house show wouldn't be until Friday so they did have a few days off.

"Not yet. Figured I'd just go back home, relax a little."

"You want to stay?" Punk blurted the question while they were in the halls, just before they made it to the locker room.

"Stay?" John repeated.

Punk shrugged. "I know we don't get a whole lot of time off so if you'd rather go see family…"

John was stunned for a moment at the offer and thought it over. He really didn't have anything planned. "Sure. I'd like to stay."

Xxxxxxxxx

"What exactly are you going to do about this thing with Kane?" Punk asked later. They were sitting side by side, the screen in the corner of the room turned on in preparation for the start of the show.

"What else can I do? Call him out again."

Punk frowned but didn't say anything. That hadn't turned out so well last week. Kane still hadn't clarified exactly why he'd been attacking John and even if John wasn't worried, Punk was a little bit.

He was distracted when his entrance music began to play from the screen. He turned his attention to the screen, his frown deepening.

"What the fuck?" His frown turned into a scowl when Laurinaitis appeared with _his _shirt on, and did _his _entrance.

John's mouth was hanging open in surprise. "Huh. He didn't do it so badly." Although, he did almost laugh when Laurinaitis screwed up saying his own job title.

"Shut up," Punk said with a glare. He grabbed his title and got up.

"Give 'em hell," John called after him with a shake of his head.

Xxxxxxxx

John did not see Punk for the rest of the show. He spoke briefly to Zack and he was honestly happy that things seemed to be coming together for Zack but he was a little worried when he'd heard about the gauntlet match Laurinaitis had put Punk in. And, after watching it, he was sure Punk was going to be in a bad mood when he did see him.

Then Kane had finally revealed his reasoning for attacking John, taunting him about the fan's reactions towards him. He really just wanted to find Punk.

Xxxxxxxx

Already pissed about what had happened with Ziggler, and worried about what had happened between John and Kane, Punk made his way alone across the parking lot towards his car. He needed to be away from all the people. He sent a quick text to John, asking him to meet him at his car.

It wasn't until he was unlocking the driver's side door that he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, that he caught the person coming out from behind his car. For such a big guy, Kane could move pretty fast and he'd caught Punk completely off guard. The shoulder tackle took Punk to the concrete and the back of his head bounced off it.

Gritting his teeth against the sudden, sharp pain, Punk wrapped an arm around his head. Kane had knelt beside him and one of his hands gripped Punk by the throat, keeping him on the ground. Punk gripped the arm holding him down, trying to get Kane off him.

"You should advise Cena to listen to me," Kane said in a low voice, leaning even closer to Punk. "Tell him if he doesn't, I have ways of making him listen and if I have to use you to do that…"

Kane released him then, and by the time Punk had struggled into a sitting position, still holding his head, Kane was gone.

xxxxxxxxx

So, yes, it was Kane that saw them in the last chapter. I know everyone thought it was Jericho but, hey, this is set before Jericho's return, so...and I just thought it made sense. I mean, Kane was trying to piss John off enough to make him abandon his 'rise above hate' belief.


	8. Chapter 8

RAW was awesome. The crowd was awesome. I absolutely loved that they booed Sheamus and chanted Bryan's name. I'm still pissed that Bryan lost the title in a thirty second squash match. That was ridiculous but the crowd on RAW made up for it a little bit. I'm completely okay with them continuing the Jericho/Punk feud too. They had a great match at Wrestlemania and I'm sure they'll have a great match at Extreme Rules.

Punk was sitting back in the driver's seat of his car long before John made it to him. If he was angry before about what had happened with Ziggler, he was _pissed off _now about what had just happened with Kane.

He was pissed that Kane apparently knew something of his relationship with John, he was pissed that Kane thought he could use him to get to John, and he was pissed at himself for not paying more attention to his surroundings. Not that he should have expected Kane to attack him in the parking lot but he'd been attacked from behind enough times during his career that he should have known to watch his back whenever he was in or even near the arena.

He was still trying to get a handle on his temper when John walked up and went around to get in the passenger side. John looked more bummed out than pissed himself.

"Everything alright?" John asked, eyeing him.

"Everything's great," he answered with a hint of sarcasm, pulling out. He hadn't hit his head too terribly hard, at least. He wasn't bleeding and was pretty sure he didn't have a concussion or anything like that.

"I know you're pissed about what happened with Ziggler…"

"Ziggler's an idiot and I'll kick his ass next week." His words were flat as he tried his best not to let the anger he was feeling bleed into his tone. John would probably freak out if he told him about Kane. Freak out and say _I'll take care of it. _Which, Punk had been letting him do. He hadn't interfered with the Kane business because John had asked him not to but Kane had just brought him into it.

He relaxed his grip on the wheel when he realized that his knuckles were turning white and attempted to calm down. He hadn't asked John to stay with him so they could talk about Kane or Ziggler, about their jobs.

However, when he glanced sideways at John and saw the expression on his face, he had to ask. "You're not taking what Kane said seriously, are you?"

John shook his head. "Of course not." John scoffed but he didn't sound entirely convincing. Punk had wondered, on more than one occasion, if the crowd ever did get to John.

Punk had gotten some pretty bad reactions from the crowd himself but he'd never given a shit before. Plus, he'd done some pretty nasty things to get those kinds of reactions. He'd gone off the deep end a little bit after his feud with Jeff Hardy ended and winning an award for being despicable hadn't been so surprising.

John, on the other hand…Punk was pretty sure he'd never seen John even cheat during a match. He supposed he understood it to an extent. People did like to call John the Superman of the WWE and he'd always thought Superman was a bit boring but the lack of respect John got sometimes still baffled him…and kind of pissed him off as well.

It was funny, really. He'd said some pretty nasty things to John himself over the past year. Things had definitely changed.

"What's up with you?" John asked, bringing him out of his thoughts and making him realize that he'd been completely silent for too long.

He shook himself, attempted to relax. "Nothing."

Xxxxxxxx

Over the next two days, Punk let himself forget about Kane and the mess he was in with Ziggler and Laurinaitis. He and John went out to eat, went running together, went out to several other places…

He was reminded once again why he liked John in the first place.

Xxxxxxxxx

John couldn't keep the smile off his face. Slouched down on Punk's couch, Punk beside him while a movie played on Punk's television that neither one of them was paying much attention to because they'd been talking the whole way through.

Tomorrow, they'd have to head out for the next house show but that would be tomorrow. At that moment, John gestured towards the screen.

"So, you like these crappy horror movies, huh?"

"Hey, this is not crappy," Punk said, sounding almost affronted.

"Oh, yeah, sure it's awesome." He wasn't even sure if the movie they were watching deserved a B rating. He was certain it was the type of movie that would have ended up on Mystery Science Theatre.

"Next time, you stay at my house and I get to pick the movie."

"Fine. Next time we get days off, I'll go to your house and you can pick out the movie we don't pay attention to."

"Next time?" John asked in surprise. He'd meant more in the near future. "As in next week?" Because they would get a couple of days off after the next RAW.

Punk rolled his head towards John. "Why? You getting sick of me already? Need a break?"

"No," John answered immediately. "I just figured you'd…"

"What? Not want to spend so much time with you? Like I said, I do like you." He paused, seemed to get lost in thought for a moment. "I haven't thought about my ex at all in the last two days," he admitted finally.

John drew in a breath and stared. "You haven't?"

"No." He seemed rather surprised by it but was smiling anyway. "You still like me or have you really gotten sick of me?"

"I still like you," John assured him with a small smile of his own.

"Good." Punk sat up and then leaned close to John and then they were kissing for the first time. John's arms automatically went around him as Punk pressed his lips against John's and he pulled Punk closer, until he was almost sitting in John's lap.

The kiss didn't last long but Punk didn't pull out of John's arms when he pulled his head back. "So," he asked, his eyes sparkling, "am I worth the wait?"

John only grinned and put a hand on the back of Punk's neck to pull him down for another kiss in answer.


	9. Chapter 9

Punk was walking the backstage area, heading towards the locker room when someone grabbed his arm and pulled him into the nearest room. His first instinct was to fight but he caught a glimpse of the familiar colors of John's shirt and let John pull him.

And John did pull him close, pressing his lips against Punk's. The kiss lasted just a few moments before John pulled his head away, although he didn't release Punk.

"I gotta start the show soon," John said, hands still on Punk's waist.

Punk shrugged and rolled his eyes. "I have to get ready for my title defense." He was still a little irritated about how Ziggler had 'earned' the match.

"Right. But we still got about fifteen minutes," John pointed out, pulling Punk back to him.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Technically, Chris had gotten to the arena well before his promos came up again, well before he'd finally be going down to the ring. It was then, when he was hiding out in the back to make sure no one saw him before that, that he spotted the big man.

He'd watched Kane's return as well but what was interesting was not the fact that Kane was there but who Kane was apparently stalking that week. Chris had been down the hall from John Laurinaitis when he'd caught CM Punk coming from the office, in his ring gear, with a scowl on his face. Then he'd spotted Kane coming out of another room, apparently following.

Chris had plenty of friends backstage, plenty of friends that kept him up to date on what was going on and he could guess why Kane was stalking Punk. Chris, however, had his own plans and he didn't want Kane screwing them up.

"I wouldn't do that," he called out to Kane when he got close enough and when he was sure Punk wouldn't hear either of them. Kane turned towards him and Chris held up his hands when the big man started towards him.

"Hey, I'm not looking for a fight but if you really want to mess with Cena, and you really want to use him to do it, there are better ways of accomplishing that task than simply beating him senseless." Chris grinned. "Trust me; I have a plan that will be worse for them both."

Xxxxxxxxx

If he wasn't pissed about how Ziggler had won the match, or that Ziggler had ran off with his title aftewards, he most definitely was later on in the night. He'd been having a fairly good day before coming to the arena too.

But, he had just gotten out of the shower, just changed into his street clothes when those promos started up again. He stopped and watched and found that John had been right. The lights went out in the arena and when they came back up, Chris was standing at the top of the ramp with a freaking light up jacket on.

For several minutes, Punk stood watching with his fists clenched as Chris ran around the arena. His day had officially turned to shit and Punk grabbed his bag and started out of the arena. He'd meant to stay and watch John's match but he was practically shaking with rage and he definitely didn't want to be backstage when Chris got back there.

Sending a quick message to John that he was heading back to the hotel, he left.

Xxxxxxxxx

He'd been sitting beside Zack, waiting for their match when John got the short message from Punk. He frowned, half his attention on his phone, the other half on his the monitor where Chris Jericho was making his return. Punk had told him earlier that he'd stay until after John's match and that they'd leave together.

"Everything alright, bro?" Zack asked.

"Yeah." John was still frowning, however. He knew Punk was pissed about what had happened earlier in the night with Ziggler but he also still remembered Punk's reaction to posibility of Jericho returning.

_You okay?_

He sent the message, and his frown deepened when he didn't get another in return.

"Ready?" Zack had stood and John nodded, his concern not going away.

Xxxxxxxxxx

John found Punk face down on his bed when he finally made it back to his hotel room. He'd stayed after the show, mostly to make sure Zack was alright after the attack from Kane and from their match.

Punk didn't move when John came into the room and John sighed. "I know you're not asleep," he said, a little angry that Punk hadn't texted him back. He'd been worried.

Punk did not lift his head, instead bringing one of the pillows over it. "I'd like to pretend," was his muffled answer.

"What the hell's wrong?" John asked, crossing his arms and staring down at him.

Punk tossed the pillow to the side and finally looked up at him. "You're pissed," he said, a statement not a question.

"Yes, I'm pissed. Why didn't you call me back?"

Punk frowned, looked to the nightstand where his phone was sitting. "Turned off my phone." He sat up, ran a hand over his face. "Sorry."

"Why?" John's anger hiked up another notch at the half hearted apology. Although, Punk did look exhausted and weary, John was still of the opinion that he could have at least let him know something.

"Because I didn't want to talk to…people."

"People like Jericho?" John asked, watching as Punk tensed at the name.

"Sure, people like Jericho." Punk dropped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and John's anger deflated. He'd never been too angry of a person anyway.

"What's up with that? What history do you even have with Jericho?" John had some with the man. He had been the man who had forced Jericho out of the company at one point. Well, he hadn't specifically, but still…

"You know that ex I was telling you about before?" Punk turned his head towards John and raised an eyebrow.

"You dated Jericho?" John sat down on the bed, a small frown forming.

"For over two years," Punk admitted. "Well, off and on for over two years."

"Off and on?"

Punk sat up again and shrugged. "We weren't all that…compatible at times."

And John could see that, he supposed. John wasn't exactly friends with Jericho but he knew the man well enough to know that his ego was even bigger than Punk's could be and he was just as stubborn and hot headed.

"I went little nuts after the thing with Jeff Hardy and Chris was all high on himself and had decided that he pretty much hated everybody. That was about the time we got together."

"Huh." John tried picturing that. He'd watched Smackdown when Punk had been doing the Straight Edge Society stuff. He remembered thinking how crazy Punk was back then.

"So, you started a relationship based on the fact that you were both cynical bastards?"

"Pretty much," Punk answered, not taking offense to the question at all.

"That sounds…healthy."

Punk almost smiled at that. "Of course it was." Punk paused and pulled John down with him. "Now, can we stop talking about Chris?"

"I don't know. I think I'm still mad at you."

Punk did grin this time and rolled on top of John. "Don't worry. I think I can make it up to you."


	10. Chapter 10

John was hesitant to wake Punk up. It was a rare thing, to be able to watch Punk sleep. John had always been an early riser but Punk was always up before him. That morning, however, Punk had actually managed to get some sleep and he was currently fast asleep on his stomach, head turned towards John, hair falling across his closed eyes.

"Watching me sleep? That's kind of creepy."

John was startled when Punk spoke and he let out a small laugh. "How long you been awake?"

"Long enough to know that you enjoy staring at people who are unconscious." Punk's tone was alert.

"I can't help it, can't keep my eyes off you," John answered with a bright smile.

Punk actually laughed and pulled John closer. "You're so damned corny."

John's grin only widened before they kissed. His hands went to Punk's waist, dragging him as close as he could get him. Then he rolled them until he was hovering over Punk. Punk's hands went under his shirt, fingers trailing over his stomach.

They sat up and Punk pulled his shirt off before helping John do the same. When they went back down on the bed, he wrapped his thighs around John's waist and John was surprised at the clear message. They hadn't gotten much farther than kissing yet.

"You sure we should…?" He trailed off, gasping when Punk pressed himself even closer and his fingers brushed the waistband of the pants John had worn to bed.

"I'm sure, trust me."

And John took his word for it, especially when Punk trailed his hand lower and he pulled John's head back down for another kiss.

Xxxxxxxxx

Chris had not, despite how many times Punk had spotted him in the halls, approached him. Punk was both grateful and a little worried about that fact. So far, Chris had gone down to the ring a couple of times, ran around with a stupid smile on his face and not said a word yet. Punk _knew _Chris, though, and knew that the man was planning something.

Kane had not yet pulled another one of his sneak attacks. While Chris' presence pissed him off, the fact that Kane seemed to have switched his focus to taking Zack Ryder apart was a little more than strange. But what worried him about that mess even more was how it was getting to John and, leading up to the Royal Rumble, it was getting to him.

But those worries had to be put aside when he had to deal with the combination of Ziggler and Laurinaitis, who seemed to think it was a great idea to put him in a tag match with Chris. Punk was already antsy and missing John, who hadn't been scheduled for RAW that night.

He and John had taken things to the next level and things were going good between them, so good that Punk was almost expecting something to happen. He still had no idea what Chris was planning but the idea of being in the ring with the man wasn't a pleasant one.

Xxxxxxxxxx

John smiled, his phone out, as he made his way back to the hotel. He hadn't been scheduled for RAW and had decided not to go to the arena that night but he had traveled with them, mostly because he hadn't wanted to be away from Punk just yet. They had been doing extremely well in the first stages of their relationship and John was completely infatuated and falling fast.

He and Punk would be separating the next day, each going to their respective homes over their days off that week and John wanted to spend as much time with the man as he could before that. He really did need to spend some time with his family, though. His parents had been calling him to come back home for a bit and he planned to and he knew Punk's friends and sisters had been bugging him about the same thing.

He also kind of needed the break from the show. The stuff with Kane was starting to get to him. And it wasn't even the attacks on him so much as the constant attacks on Zack. Zack had become a rather good friend and John was worried about him, worried about how far Kane would go.

He did watch RAW even though he wasn't there and he knew that Punk would be coming back to the hotel in a foul mood.

Xxxxxxxxx

He was once again seething with rage by the end of the show. Not only had Bryan been taken out but Chris had first refused a tag and then ran off with that damn smile on his face, leaving Punk in a handicap match. Mick Foley had saved his ass but then Laurinaitis had come out, disqualified his win and the rage boiled over.

Even after tearing into Laurinaitis and promising the man that he would beat the hell out of him if he screwed Punk over, he didn't feel any better about the situation. He stormed into the locker room, considered just leaving and grabbing a shower at the hotel

He had just unwound his wrist tape and gotten the padding off his shoulder when he became aware of someone else in the room. He'd left the door to the locker room open, only intending on pulling on some shorts and a shirt before heading out but he was caught by surprise once again as someone grabbed his arm and spun him until he hit the wall face first.

He'd turned his head as well, which probably saved him from _another _broken nose. The side of his face did bounce off the wall, his head hitting hard and before he could recover from it, one of his arms was wrenched behind him and a body pressed against his back.

"Miss me, Phillip?" Chris pressed even closer, his lips next to Punk's ear. Gritting his teeth as his newly bruising cheekbone scraped against the concrete wall, Punk didn't answer, instead using the only leverage he had by slamming his head back, catching Chris on the forehead and forcing the older man to release him.

Seething, Punk spun and tackled Chris before he could completely recover. They rolled on the floor when the landed but Punk was at a disadvantage. Fresh off what had essentially been a handicap match, his shoulder hurting from where Chris had wrenched his arm back, his head hurting from hitting the wall, it didn't take long for Chris to gain the upper hand.

Chris slammed Punk's head down against the floor; hard enough to leave him dazed and then shoved his forearm against Punk's throat, cutting off his airway.

"You should be ready, Phillip. Because things are about to change around here for you. Trust me on that." Chris stood and landed a kick to Punk's ribs when he started to roll over onto his side. He walked out then, leaving Punk on the floor, one arm wrapped around his chest, the other around his aching head.

Xxxxxxxxx

By the time Punk made it back to the hotel, he was exhausted and hurting. Too tired to even still be pissed about the attack from Chris, he really just needed to find John. He'd ended up dragging himself into the showers at the arena after all, trying to give himself time to shake it off a bit and to think about what he was going to tell John about the bruise that was forming on his face.

When he finally reached his hotel room, it was late. He used his key and had started to open the door when it was jerked open and he was face to face with John, his expression a mixture of concern and anger. He opened his mouth, probably to yell, but stopped himself when he saw Punk's face.

"What the hell happened to you?"

Punk might have been able to get away with telling John it was from his match but he didn't. Instead, he moved closer to John. He was bone deep tired, irritated and he didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to think about Chris.

"Can you ask me that later?" He requested.

With a frown, John pulled him close, reluctantly relenting at the look on Punk's face. "Sure."

Punk let out a relieved sigh and sunk into the embrace John was offering.


	11. Chapter 11

"You're seriously not going to tell me what happened?" John asked. His tone had turned angry minutes before when they'd started this conversation after he'd woken up. Despite how exhausted Punk had been the night before, he had been up well before John and John was appropriately worried.

"If I tell you, you have to promise you're not going to go off and attack someone," Punk said, pausing in stuffing his things in his bag.

"You want me to let go of that?" John gestured to him, to the bruise that had formed on Punk's face.

"I can take care of this, John. It's my problem. He attacked me," Punk pointed out.

"If we're together, it's our problem," John protested.

"You mean like Kane is our problem?" Punk asked. "Like how you asked me not to get involved in that and I did as you asked because you said you could take care of it?"

"That's…different."

Both of Punk's eyebrows shot up. "Different how? You think I can't take care of myself?"

"I didn't say that," John protested, frustrated. "But you can't expect me to not want to kick the ass of someone who gave you that bruise."

"Yeah, and I appreciate the fact that you do want to kick their ass. But, you're not going to." He paused, and his tone evened out, turned reasoned. "Look, if we're going to do this, you can't get freaked out every time I get my ass handed to me. This isn't the first time it's happened and I seriously doubt it will be the last."

"I know that…"

"And you can't get involved every time. Besides the fact that everyone can't know about this, how the hell do you think that would make me look? You coming down to the rescue every time?"

"You're worried about your reputation?" John asked incredulously.

"Actually, I am," Punk answered with no amount of shame. "I'm worried about looking weak in front the guys backstage. You know I can't have that, John. Especially not as the champion. I've already got them all coming after me because I'm champion. I can't have them thinking I can't even fight back on my own."

John sighed but conceded the point. Punk was right about that but it still burned to know that someone had attacked Punk and he couldn't do anything about it.

"We've got our days off, John. Go home, be with your family. I'll handle this."

Reluctantly, John relented. Mainly because their flights were soon and it wasn't as if he could do anything about it right then, especially since Punk hadn't actually told him who it was that had given him the bruise, aside from saying that it hadn't been Ziggler.

Xxxxxxxx

They did not cut off contact for the two days they spent in separate states. In fact, Punk sent him texts a lot, most of which were random observations about whatever it was he was doing with his sisters or his friends.

John spent time with his brothers, his parents but it was his mom that figured out something was going on the second morning he spent in her house. He was sitting in the kitchen, eating breakfast with her when his phone vibrated next to him on the table.

"So, you have someone new?" His mother asked with a small smile of her own.

"What? What makes you say that?" John asked, looking up at her.

Her smile widened. "That look on your face. I do know you, after all. I was there for all your past boyfriends."

John couldn't help but to smile. She was right, of course. She always seemed to know before he told her. She'd always been great about it, about who he was dating and the fact that he was dating men.

"Is it someone you work with?" There was mild worry in her voice as she asked this question and John couldn't blame her for that either. Most relationships with people he worked with ended very badly.

"Yes. But, don't worry, Mom. He's a good guy." He was reluctant to tell her who it was, though. If he had a type before Punk, Punk probably wouldn't have fit it.

"Who is it?" His mom asked straight out and John sighed, stared down at his breakfast for a moment.

"His ring name is CM Punk," he answered finally. He looked up to see the recognition pass over his mother's face and then the surprise.

"That boy that was making fun of you all the time last year?" She leaned forward.

John raised an eyebrow. "Wow. I'd figure you'd make the first comment about all the tattoos."

"Oh, please." She waved a hand. "Nearly every one of them have some sort of tattoos. I'm more worried about the things he was saying about you."

"That was months ago, Mom. We've patched things up. He can be a good guy." At least, he was with John lately. He understood his mother's hesitance. Not only had Punk said some pretty nasty things about him last year but he'd also done some pretty nasty things as well while he'd been in charge of Nexus.

"And you're happy?" She asked, studying him.

"Yes, I'm happy."

"Well, then. That's all that matters, right?" She paused. "You know you'll have to bring him here at some point now?"

"We just started dating, Mom," John pointed out. Then again, he had met part of Punk's family. Well, the part that wasn't related to him, anyway. He still hadn't met Punk's sisters and he thought that probably wasn't appropriate at this point in their relationship.

"Still, at one point…"

"Yeah."

The rest of his time home was spent mainly messing around with his brothers and he'd forgotten just how much he missed his family. He loved his job and everything that came with it but it was nice-being back home for a few days.

Xxxxxxxxx

Punk was already at the arena. John was supposed to get there soon but Punk had gotten there a little early in an effort to search out Chris. He wasn't sure what he was going to do once he found Chris but he needed to do something about it before John found out it was Chris that had attacked him and John went after the guy.

Royal Rumble was in a week and he was already dealing with enough in Ziggler and Laurinaitis without adding Chris into the mix but he should have expected it. Chris was still pissed at him for the way they had broken things off last time and, he suspected, for something else that Chris wouldn't name, at least not yet.

He finally gave up when he was told that Chris wasn't there yet, and possibly wouldn't be there at all and went to get ready for the show. He had gotten into his ring gear, his back to the door when it was opened and he was slammed, once again, into the wall.

He had a moment to struggle before a pair of lips that were not John's crashed into his own.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Chris smiled into the kiss when Punk did not pull away immediately. He was sure that Punk did not take notice that he had his phone out. He pulled away first and was not surprised when the punch landed on his cheek but figured it was worth it.

He stumbled back a few steps, the grin still on his face at the scowl on Punk's. He said nothing, just blew Punk a kiss and skirted past him, leaving the room at an almost run. He sent the picture a few seconds later.

He was sure that Punk could talk himself out of any trouble over the picture but it was only the first part of his plan, only meant to put some doubt in the mind of John Cena. He was going to make Punk pay….for a lot of things. He was just getting started.

Xxxxxxxxxx

John was smiling as he walked into the arena. As much as he had missed his family, he was happy to be back at work, happy that he'd be seeing Punk again. He was almost to the locker room when his phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out.

John stopped in his tracks when he opened the text message, staring at the picture in disbelief.


	12. Chapter 12

The smile that spread across Chris' face after sending the picture was devoid of humor. It was, after all, just the very first step in his plan. Convincing Kane to back off of Punk and to focus his attention on Ryder instead hadn't been an easy task but it had been worth it as well.

If he played his cards right, Kane's quest to destroy Cena would work in his favor anyway and he'd be able to use it to help further his own plan to break Phillip down. His smile turned bitter at just the thought of the man he'd spent over two years of his life with.

The biting, hateful words Phillip had used when they'd broken up for the last time…but it wasn't just that that was motivating him. He'd come back to be on top again and anything less was unacceptable. He would break Phillip down and then he would take the title away from him. It was a two for one deal, he figured.

And if he had to go through Cena, to hurt Cena to get the job done…Well, that would be fine with him as well.

Xxxxxxxxx

John stared, shocked, at the picture, frozen in place for several minutes. His breath caught in his throat at the very sight of Punk kissing another man. The number was unknown but John was sure that Jericho had sent it, just by the angle of the picture.

How Jericho had gotten his number, he didn't know but it really didn't matter. What did matter was what was in the picture. Hesitating a moment, John turned and walked back the way he had come, the picture still up on his phone.

His match wasn't until the end of the show and the feelings that were invading his chest made him want to be alone for a bit before he had to go out and face the crowd. He sat in his car when he did make it out to the parking lot.

He wasn't sure what to think about this. He'd never been a jealous guy and when Punk had told him about his previous relationship with Jericho, he hadn't been jealous then either. But the picture…it didn't look like Punk was pushing Jericho away.

What if he'd changed his mind? It had taken Punk a while to come around and let something actually happen between them. He'd said it was because he hadn't quite been over Jericho when John had first asked him out. What if he still wasn't?

Xxxxxxxxxx

The shock had worn off, replaced by anger. Actually, more than that. Punk was furious. He was even more pissed off than he had been after Jericho had attacked him before. He'd managed to refrain from punching the wall since Chris had disappeared after that little stunt. Because, at first, he had considered tearing through the backstage area to find Chris.

It even took him a bit to realize that John was later than he should have been. John had said he'd meet him there before his match but so far he hadn't shown up and now on top of that anger, Punk was beginning to get a little worried.

John usually showed up where he said he would be, and if he didn't, he always called. He was considerate like that. Never wanted people to think he was blowing them off or to worry about him.

Thinking that maybe Kane had decided to step up his plans against John, Punk left the locker room, in search of John instead of Chris. He could get payback against Chris later. For now, he needed to find John.

He finally got somewhere when one of the divas informed him that she'd seen John walking back towards the parking lot.

"There you are," Punk said with some relief when he found John sitting sideways in his car, the door open. "What are you still doing out here? I thought you were going to meet me in the locker room when you got here?" He asked, with some confusion. He'd been dying to see John, himself. It had been a few days, after all, and as much as he loved his friends and his sisters…

John did not answer but the mixed look of shock and growing anger on his face made Punk stop short in front of him, made him think twice about reaching for him. John held out his phone for Punk to take and he did with a frown, looking down at him.

When he saw the picture, he had to stop himself from throwing the phone. All _his _fury at the situation came back in an instant and he gritted his teeth. "Asshole!" He practically growled.

"What the hell is this?" John finally spoke up, standing as well. "I thought you said you were over Chris…but if you aren't…"

"I _am._" Punk's eyes flashed with anger and the fist of his free hand clenched. "He kissed me."

"And you let it go on long enough for him to snap a picture?" John asked, the anger rising in his tone.

"He surprised me," Punk defended with a frown. "Last time we were in a room alone together he bounced my head off the wall and then kicked me in the gut. I wasn't expecting this."

"So, you would have pushed him away…?"

"Yes, I would have. I don't cheat, John. He just caught me by surprise, I swear."

"Yeah." But John's tone was still unsure and Punk's frown deepened. He could see the doubt in John's eyes and he hated that, more than anything. Trust issues had been part of the reason why he and Chris had broken up too.

"You don't believe me." He handed the phone back to John.

"Why would he do that?" John asked instead of answering that accusation.

"Because he likes fucking with me." Punk crossed his arms and his eyes narrowed. "He probably found out about you and me and he's still pissed about the way we broke up."

John let out a breath and nodded. "Yeah, alright…"

"Look, Chris can be a vindictive bastard when he wants to be. And I admit I can be to but I also know Chris. I know that he's pissed at me, I know that he's probably going to keep coming after me. If you can't handle that…If you can't believe me when I tell you that that was all him…"

John's head snapped up. "No. I can handle it." He paused, seemed to consider a moment. "I do believe you."

Punk searched his expression. "Okay."

"So, he's the one who attacked you before?" John asked, finally pocketing his phone.

"Yes, and I am going to make him pay for it, believe me."

Xxxxxxxxx

John followed after Punk as he walked into the arena. He had put his phone away, assured Punk that he did believe him but there was still that little bit of doubt, of insecurity. Jericho and Punk had been together for two years, after all.

Still, he had to trust that Punk was telling him the truth if he wanted to make it work. Not trusting him would be the easiest way to destroy a relationship, he knew from personal experience. Still, there was also always this fear in the back of his head that he was being taken for a ride.

He'd been in a few relationships where the other person had just assumed that they could do him wrong without him noticing because he was a trusting guy, because he was such a nice guy. So, when stuff like this popped up, his first instinct was to trust that Punk was telling him the truth but he sometimes ended up second guessing himself.

He supposed that if Punk was telling the truth that it was exactly what Jericho was hoping for. And it wasn't such a surprise that Jericho could be so vindictive. He'd seen far worse in his years in the wrestling business. He'd seen Jericho himself do far worse.

All of it led to the conclusion that he probably should have been more worried when Punk had told him that Chris Jericho was his ex.


	13. Chapter 13

John was not having a good week. First, the stuff with Jericho, then Kane had put Zack on the injured list, then Eve had blamed him for it…He had entirely too much crap on his mind and the only good thing about his week was the moments when he could get Punk alone and forget about all of it.

Punk was not having the best week either. The crap with Jericho, combined with the crap with Laurinaitis and Ziggler had put him into a bit of a bad mood as well.

The both of them had made a sort of silent vow _not _to speak about work when they found time to be alone together. Both of them wanted at least part of their week to be good, to be worry free. But after the pay-per-view. After Kane had gone after Eve again, after Kane had attacked Zack again, John had reached an all time low.

"You're leaving?" Punk asked him. They were in the hallway of the arena. John had his bag slung over his shoulder.

"Yeah. I need to get out of here." He didn't glance over his shoulder to where the Royal Rumble match was about to take place.

"Well…you want me to come with you?" Punk asked with a worried frown. "We could go back to the hotel…"

"No, it's fine. Look, I think I just need to be alone for a bit," John admitted.

"Alright…" The worry didn't leave Punk's eyes and John pulled him close, kissing him briefly.

"I'll be fine. I just need to work some things out. Meet you back at the hotel?"

"Yeah, sure."

Xxxxxxxxxx

Punk couldn't say he was unhappy with the results of the rumble. At least, it seemed like someone else was going to have a bad week, he thought when he watched Sheamus eliminate Chris. He had yet to get his own revenge on Chris but watching the expression on Chris' face after that elimination had been satisfying even if he hadn't been the one doing it.

He was still worried about John though and as much as he did want to find Chris, he needed to make sure John was alright after that mess with Kane. He did not, however, make it to the hotel as quickly as he would have liked.

He was heading towards the parking lot, passing through a deserted hallway when the lights went out. He had a moment of surprise before there was blinding pain that took him to the floor as something slammed into the small of his back.

The agony of it took his breath and his mouth opened in a scream that never made it past his lips. Before he could even think past that pain, a kick had him on his back and then a knee was pressed into his throat. He was vaguely aware of something metal being dropped on the floor near his head as the lights came back on and he heard Chris speaking.

"You know, I had this all planned out. You know me, Phillip. I always did like those slow building ones…mind games and all that. Unfortunately, Kane is not nearly as patient as I am."

Punk gripped weakly at Chris, at the knee pressed firmly against his throat but the pain in his back had not abated at all and he had to remain still as Chris continued.

"Are you listening to me?" Chris finally removed his knee, only to grip Punk's chin tightly. "You see, Kane's very adamant about all this. He really wants to hurt Cena, really wants to break the guy down and he really wants to use you to do it. You should really be thanking me. If I hadn't stepped in, you'd probably be in worse shape than Ryder is at the moment."

Recovering somewhat from the blow to his back, Punk tried to shove Chris away, tried to get himself up but Chris only stood again. He pushed Punk back down and, grabbing Punk's legs, he turned him over into the Walls of Jericho before he could do anything about it. Punk let out a strangled cry at the action.

Chris held the hold for a minute before releasing it and Punk immediately curled up on the floor. Chris knelt again, put a hand on the side of his neck.

"Alright, I suppose that I do have your attention, don't I?" He paused. "Listen to me, Phillip. You're going to do something for me and if you don't, your new boyfriend is going to be the one to pay the price."

Chris leaned even closer to him and spoke quickly, in a low voice. When he was finished, he stood again, a smirk on his face and then he walked away, left Punk on the floor.

For a minute, Punk didn't move. He lay on his side with the pain in his back, Chris' words sinking in. Finally he rolled onto his knees and, gritting his teeth, he pushed himself to his feet, groaning when he tried to straighten up fully.

He nearly fell against the wall. Putting a hand against it, he forced himself to begin walking towards the exit again.

Xxxxxxxxx

By the time John made it back to the hotel, all he really wanted to do was curl up in bed with Punk and sleep, forget about Kane and all his problems. Forget about how he was sure Eve was right, that it was his fault Zack was in the hospital again.

He felt a bit bad for ditching Punk too. Punk had won his match, after all and that was a bright spot in what had been a pretty abysmal work week for the both of them but he hadn't wanted to bring Punk down with him and he really had needed to be alone for a bit.

He expected to find Punk still awake when he made it back to their hotel room. Most time, Punk was awake and this was the night of a pay-per-view, which usually was a guarantee that Punk would not be sleeping at all.

But, when he got inside the room, he didn't find his boyfriend sitting up and reading his comics, or watching one of his DVDs. Instead, Punk was curled up near the edge of the bed on his side, eyes closed. And, although John doubted he was actually sleeping, his brow creased in worry when he recognized the lines of pain on Punk's face.

"What the hell happened?" John asked when he knelt beside the bed. Guilt formed in his gut again. He had left the arena early and obviously someone had attacked Punk. Considering the past few weeks, John had a pretty good idea of who it must have been.

Punk cracked his eyes open. "John…feeling any better?" He asked.

John's frown deepened and he shook his head. He could hear the pain in Punk's voice. "Yeah, great. You look like you don't feel so hot, though."

"Mmm." He grabbed John's arm, closed his eyes again. "You should get in bed."

"I will as soon as you tell me what happened," John said. His first thought was to refuse any stalling on Punk's part this time, that this was the third time Punk had been caught off guard and that something needed to be done about it. But, when Punk opened his eyes fully, John was startled by the sadness he saw shining in them.

"Later…please?" And the defeated tone of his voice, added with the almost begging quality had John's resolve crumbling. He found he couldn't say no, couldn't press Punk, not when he was looking at John that way, not with that tone of voice.

With a sigh, John stood and got into bed as well, wrapping his arms around Punk and pulling his back to John's chest. John's worry only increased when Punk practically clung to him. He'd never heard Punk beg for anything before…and clingy was never a word he would have used to describe the man.

John wrapped his arms tighter around Punk with a bad feeling that something worse than a simple physical attack had happened after he'd left the arena.


	14. Chapter 14

If John was worried when he'd made it back to their hotel room after the Royal Rumble, it was nothing compared to what he felt the next day leading up to RAW. Punk had remained uncharacteristically quiet and John's attempts to get him to talk had fallen flat.

He had refused to talk about the attack the night before and it had almost caused a fight between them. John had pulled up short, however because that almost defeated look he'd seen in Punk's eyes the night before hadn't left.

"You ready?" John asked after they were both dressed and prepared to head out.

"Yeah," Punk answered quietly, distractedly. Maybe John should have been a bit angry at the way he was acting because it sure seemed like Punk was cutting him out but he couldn't be. He could only be worried. This was just so very out of character…

Even more so, Punk did not protest when John lifted both of their bags and he followed John out of the hotel silently. John did start to get a little angry the longer it went on but none of that anger was directed at Punk.

Whatever Jericho had done, because he was sure that it had to of been Jericho, it had to of been bad and John wanted to find the man and beat some sense into him. He was maybe looking forward to getting to the arena just for that reason and even though he had promised before that he would leave it alone, that he would let Punk handle it, he couldn't ignore the way that Punk had been acting, and he couldn't ignore what Jericho was doing to him.

Xxxxxxxxx

Any enjoyment Punk might have gotten out of the prospect of Triple H firing John Laurinaitis on live television was gone. He was not looking forward to entering the arena for the first RAW after the Royal Rumble.

Chris' words were still playing in his head and he hadn't slept. His back was still killing him and he knew John was worried.

He couldn't keep his head in the game, which he recognized was a bad thing as soon as he was booked in a match with Bryan. He'd been in a number of matches with Bryan in Ring of Honor and he knew just how good Bryan was, knew that he'd lose-and probably quickly-if he couldn't shift his focus from what Chris had said to Bryan.

Punk had slipped away from John sometime before his match, while Randy Orton and Dolph Ziggler were beating the hell out of each other after his phone buzzed. He'd only glanced at the text message before heading out and finding the room.

Chris was alone in the room when Punk opened the door and went inside and Punk scowled at the smirk on Chris' face, his fists clenched and it took all of his willpower not to knock Chris' teeth out.

"Think about what I said?" Chris asked, coming closer, stopping about a foot from Punk.

"Would I be here if I hadn't? Trust me, I don't want to be anywhere near you."

"But you are here," Chris noted, grinning. "So, we're going to do this my way."

"You didn't give me much a choice did you?" He paused. "I really hate you, you know that?"

"I hate you too, believe me." Chris took yet another step closer and pulled his phone out. "We doing this or what?"

Punk reached forward and his hand fisted in Chris' shirt. "You know this isn't going to stop me from kicking your ass later, right? Because I am going to kick your ass for this."

"I'm sure you'll try. Now…"

Punk hesitated, feeling sick at his stomach for what he was about to do but still pulled Chris closer, leaned forward and pressed his lips against Chris'.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Turned out, he didn't get a clean finish with Bryan anyway. Chris, it seemed, had decided to add to take his personal hatred for Punk and make it public by ending the match himself.

Punk lay on the mat for several minutes, recovering from the Code Breaker and wondering if Chris had sent that damned video to John yet. When he made it backstage and couldn't find John, he was sure Chris had.

Feeling like he was going to be sick again, Punk set about getting out of his wrestling gear and changing into his street clothes. John was likely angry and Punk had rehearsed what he was going to say in his head over and over again, each time causing the knots that had formed in his stomach to tighten just a bit more.

When he glanced up at the monitors, saw Kane come out to torment Eve, he knew that John would be out too. He wasn't disappointed. John did come out and, for the first time, got the upper hand on Kane.

The beating John gave Kane surprised him and the smile on John's face while he delivered it would have rendered him speechless if he had of been talking to anyone. He was sure, right then, that Chris had gotten what he wanted. And maybe Kane had as well…

Xxxxxxxxx

His phone was lying in pieces on his locker room floor. He had thrown it against the wall before going out to fight Kane. He had thrown it after receiving that video. The anger…pain…betrayal was so overwhelming in that moment that John had had a hard time dealing with it.

He was sure that his feelings for Punk went a little deeper than like.

It was unmistakable in the video. The picture he had received before could be explained away. He could say that Jericho could have been the one who kissed Punk, that he'd surprised Punk but this wasn't the case with the video. Punk was clearly the one doing the kissing. He had clearly been the one to pull Jericho to him.

John felt like an idiot. He'd been so worried about Punk before. He'd been concerned when Punk had disappeared shortly after his match with Bryan had been announced, had been worried that Punk wouldn't fare well in that match considering how distracted he was and how his back was still hurting him.

But all that worry had transformed into pain and rage as soon as he had watched that video and he had taken that out on Kane. He didn't feel any better when he made it backstage again and he still went to the hotel to confront Punk about it.

There was still this almost desperate hope that it was all a mistake, that the video was a mistake somehow but his hopes were dashed as soon as he spoke to Punk.

Xxxxxxxxx

John was angry. He shoved past Punk as soon as he opened the door to the hotel room for him and walked inside, standing several feet away from Punk. He also did not waste time.

"You know, I don't have the video right now because I threw my phone against the wall but you want to explain why you were kissing a guy that has attacked you three times?"

Punk opened his mouth to answer but the words he had planned out refused to make it past his lips at first. He could see pain in John's blue eyes as well, pain he had put there and he looked down, breaking eye contact.

"Not going to say anything?" The anger in John's tone was building.

"I kissed him," Punk admitted, looking back up at John.

"Yeah, I saw that," John answered. "What I want to know is why?" His jaw was clenched so hard that his teeth were grinding together as he waited for Punk's answer.

"I guess I was wrong before." He paused, took a breath and forced the words out. "When I said I was over him, when I said that I could do this with you…"

"You were wrong," John repeated. "So, what? You're going to go back to a guy that obviously hates you?"

Punk laughed, the sound bitter and half way to hysterical. "No…I don't know. I just can't…I can't be with you either."

"Right." John blinked several times and this time it was him that broke eye contact. He wiped a hand over his face, over his eyes. "Right."

"I'm so-" But John held up a hand, cutting off the apology and before Punk could say anything else, he was skirting past him and left the room with a slam of the door. For several seconds, Punk simply stood there before he turned, pressing his palm against his forehead. He dropped down on the edge of his bed, his hands coming up to press against his mouth, almost like he was praying.

But he didn't believe in God and he certainly didn't believe he deserved to be forgiven for what he'd just done. What he did believe was that he had definitely fallen for John, that he most likely did love John, and that he had just completely destroyed that.


	15. Chapter 15

I'm using Colt again for this…I thought about using one of Punk's sisters but I don't even know how old they are. Plus, I heard him say several times doesn't speak to his parents. And I like Colt.

"Okay, what the hell is up with you?"

The greeting did not cause Punk to raise his head from the cushions of his couch. He'd heard the door open, of course but hadn't had the energy to lift himself up to see who it was. There were only three people that had keys to his place. Two were his sisters and one was the man currently standing behind his couch.

"I'm fine," Punk mumbled automatically but he hadn't moved. He was more exhausted than he ever remembered being, which was saying something considering how many years he'd dealt with insomnia and he hadn't ate anything that day.

"Why aren't you answering your phone then?" Colt asked, his tone mildly angry.

Punk sighed and finally turned over so he could sit up. He dug his phone out of his pocket. "Huh. It's dead." He dropped it on the coffee table, not bothering to get up and find the charger.

"You look like shit," Colt commented before he went around the couch, and sat down near the end.

"Thanks," Punk grumbled, pulling his feet in until he was sitting cross-legged. He considered getting up and turning up the thermostat. Even with the hoodie he had on, it was still cold in his house.

"You know…I've been meaning to talk to you," Colt said, studying him a moment. "Haven't since Chris came back."

Groaning, Punk shook his head. "I'm not going to end up back with Chris," he stated, some of the anger and depression he'd been feeling in the three days since he had broken things off with John coming back.

His coping methods usually meant running or time in the gym and he had spent a lot of time doing both. But no matter how long he spent running the familiar routes he still couldn't get the look he'd seen in John's eyes out of his head and he couldn't get the rage at Chris to die.

He didn't want it to die, though, really. There had been several times during his relationship with Chris, after fights, that he'd thought he might hate the man but he really did hate Chris now. He couldn't think of anyone he had ever hated more.

"That's good to know." Colt brought him out of his thoughts. "What about Cena?"

Punk considered him a moment. "We broke up," he blurted out and then he finally did get up, headed towards his kitchen.

"You broke up," Colt repeated, following him, watching him as he got a bottle of water from his fridge.

"That's what I said." He shrugged, feigning indifference although he was sure that the luggage under his eyes and the disheveled appearance gave him away. Plus, he was a good liar when he wanted to be but Colt had known him for ten years.

"Why?" The surprise in Colt's voice was clear.

"Just…wasn't working out." Punk ran a hand over his burning eyes. He really had stayed up for too long this time.

"He broke up with you?" Colt asked, eyeing him.

"No. I did," Punk admitted. He could at least not lie about that part.

"You broke up with him," Colt repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Man…I know you do something stupid things sometimes but I thought you guys were doing well. Why would you break things off?"

"Told you," Punk answered, sitting down at his kitchen table. "Things weren't working out."

"That's not what you said the last time I talked to you," Colt pointed out. "And you look like you haven't slept in days."

"I never sleep," He interjected but Colt ignored him.

"You look pretty miserable to me. And you never turn off your phone. So, what's going on? Why did you actually break up with him?"

"I told you-"

"And I don't believe you," Colt cut him off. He waited, and then pulled out his phone when Punk didn't answer. "Maybe I should call your sisters…think they'd be able to get it out of you?"

Punk glared at him. "Blackmail, Cabana? Really?" He'd never really been able to lie to his sisters.

"If it takes that," Colt said with a shrug, completely unapologetic.

"Fine. Put your fucking phone away. I did it to keep John out of the hospital."

Colt paused, frowned. "What?"

"You've been watching the show, I'm sure. Kane's been going after him for a while now. Only he's never actually tried to injure John and it's not just because he's trying to get John to 'embrace hatred'." He rolled his eyes as he said the phrase. "He knows how pissed Vince and the higher ups would be if John got injured before Wrestlemania. But he's not completely against it either. Especially if he can't get John to do what he wants."

"What does that have to do with you?"

"The asshole came after me too. Only once," he clarified when he saw Colt stiffen and saw anger in his expression. "Chris claims he convinced Kane to switch his focus to Ryder."

"Chris?"

"The guy hates me. I don't think he cares if he gets himself fired either. I honestly think he just came back this time around to make my life hell."

Colt crossed his arms. "So, he threatened John?"

"He's got Kane on his side. And I'm pretty sure **Laurinaitis** is as well. He hates John almost as much as he hates me. I'm talking permanent injuries here, Colt. Something that would put John out of action for good. I can't risk it. I can't call Chris' bluff on this one. Especially not with Kane and Laurinitus involved as well."

"You really think they could pull it off?" Colt asked skeptically. "John can take care of himself."

"But he's not Superman, despite what people might think. Most of the roster wouldn't dare try it, no matter how big they talk. I remember the shit that rained down on Barrett last year when he botched his finisher and put John out. And that was only for a few weeks."

"But you think they'd still do it?"

"Kane's a fucking psycho. He only needs a little push and Chris can do that. Chris doesn't give a shit about the trouble he might get into for it either. He'll follow through on this and I _can't _risk John getting severely injured…at least, I can't if I can stop it."

Colt's eyes were wide, his expression incredulous. "You made a deal with him."

"Had to."

"And now you're both miserable." Colt paused again. He seemed to be debating with himself on what he should say next. "There had to be a better way to deal with this."

Punk shook his head. He supposed he could have told John about it, but he hadn't wanted to risk it. Calling Chris' bluff had always been dangerous. He wasn't the only one who knew Chris well enough to learn that.

He was still going to hurt Chris himself for it, though. He was still going to find a way to make Chris pay, and Kane if he could but until he did find a way, he did not want to risk John getting hurt because of it.

Xxxxxxxxxx

John walked into the arena for the house show with a sense of almost dread. He'd spent the last several days at his home. He'd made excuses to his parents and brothers about why he couldn't come visit and spent his days wallowing…just a bit.

He was actually glad to be back at work, to have something to do other than lay in bed and stare up at his ceiling. They had house shows every night until RAW. The only problem, of course, was that Punk would be there and, although he hadn't seen the schedule just yet, they did tend to like to stick he and Punk in tag matches together during the house shows.

And he groaned when he was finally informed of this, that that dread had come true.

He really hated that his instincts had been so off about Punk. Most people thought he was too nice, and he was a nice guy, but he wasn't as naïve as everyone believed he was. He didn't hold grudges but he also didn't believe that it was impossible for people to lie and cheat.

Punk had seemed so sincere when he'd told John he was over Jericho. He'd waited weeks before he'd allowed John to even kiss him because he'd said he wanted to be sure. John had believed him when he said he was.

Maybe it was because John did know him and he'd never known Punk to flat out lie. Punk had said during several of his promos, and when not in front of a camera, that he was sure he was born without that filter most people had between their brain and their mouth.

The more John got to know Punk, the more he was sure that that was one the honest truth. Anything that crossed his mind seemed to want to come out of his mouth. So, that meant Punk had been telling the truth in that hotel room several days ago. He had made a mistake…

There'd been an irrational part of him that had been hoping Punk had been lying. But that had really been stupid. And all John was left with was the fact that he had been falling in love with Punk. He had been sure of that as soon as he had seen that damned video.


	16. Chapter 16

I probably should have combined this chapter and the last…

Back pressed against the turnbuckle, crouched down a bit, John waited for Punk's music to hit with equal parts dread and impatience. At first, he had been happy to be back at work. Now, he just wanted the night to be over. He wanted to skip past these house shows to RAW, where he knew that he and Punk would not be in any sort of tag match together.

When Punk's music did play through the arena, John ignored the uproar from the crowd and trained his gaze on the man as he made his entrance. To his surprise, Punk did not make his normal entrance. No kneeling at the top of the ramp, no yell of the Thing's catchphrase.

Punk walked straight down to the ring. His arms were hanging at his side, the title gripped in the fingers of his right hand. John straightened when Punk stepped into the ring and he frowned at the sight of the man.

Punk was refusing to meet his gaze and John stared at him. John had been around Punk long enough to recognize that he looked like shit. The baggage under his eyes was more pronounced than ever. He looked pale and, while he'd never been clean shaven, his beard had never been as long, at least not since the Straight Edge Society had disbanded. And, when he took his shirt off, John swore that he looked skinnier than he had the last time he'd seen Punk.

Despite what had happened between them, John felt worry invade his chest at the sight. He kind of hated himself for it and maybe he was just too nice of a guy but at the same time he couldn't help it. It was, he supposed, ingrained in him. And however angry he was at Punk for the way things had ended between them, it still didn't erase the growing feelings he'd developed for the man.

John tried his best to suppress that worry when Miz's music hit and put his mind to the match they were having.

Xxxxxxxxx

By the time he made it backstage after the match, Punk was convinced that someone was trying to punish him. Because being put in a tag match with John was surely punishment. Well, it felt like it anyway.

He sat on the bench in his locker room for a while after he'd made it back there and, once again, tried to think of what he was going to do about the situation. He'd promised himself that he'd get back at both Kane and Chris but he wasn't sure how to do that without hurting John in the process.

Colt had been asking him if he could call someone else, if he could ask someone else for help and the suggestion had made Punk grimace. There was one person he could call. One person that had the clout to help him out of this mess.

But he still really hated the idea of calling that man and he wasn't entirely sure if it would do any good, if he would help anyway. He was pretty much viewing making that phone call a last resort.

So, he didn't call…at least not that night.

Xxxxxxxx

It was the RAW before Elimination Chamber that John was convinced that the mess with Punk, combined with the mess with Kane, had finally driven him crazy. Letting Eve kiss him, and kissing her back, was probably the dumbest thing he'd ever done.

He was well aware of that when he saw Zack's horrified face and John was faced with another disappointment. He lost Zack as a friend because of it. He knew it as soon as he'd pulled away from Eve.

For a second, before he walked away, he wondered if Punk was watching. He wondered how Punk would feel about it but he pushed those thoughts away. He hadn't spoken to Punk at all in the weeks since they'd broken up and he'd tried not to think about the man.

When he got back to his locker room, he knew he was in trouble. He already had one missed call from his mom and he knew he was going to have to explain that kiss to her as well. For the moment, however, he dropped his phone in his bag and sat down. He really needed to work that out himself first.

Xxxxxxxxx

The weeks following his break up with John passed in a blur of exhaustion. His insomnia had been bad, but manageable, before. But after, it had gone into overdrive and he was barely sleeping at all.

It was the RAW before Elimination Chamber that finally brought him to his breaking point, that finally made him make that call that he had been putting off.

Watching John kiss Eve had, quite possibly, been one of the most painful things he'd had to watch. Watching that and realizing that Chris had gotten what he wanted. That he had most likely lost John for good…

He'd torn his gaze from the monitors with both anger and pain raging in his chest. He'd done that. And dialing that number had been easier than ever. When he brought the phone to his ear, he was squeezing it so hard he was surprised that it didn't crack. It rang twice before the man picked up.

"_Hello?" _

Punk squeezed his eyes shut, pinched the bridge of his nose and didn't hesitate. "I need your help."


	17. Chapter 17

This chapter takes place before, during, and after the Elimination Chamber pay-per-view.

He was the first one there. Punk had gotten to the arena for the pay-per-view very early. Early enough that he hadn't run into any of the other members of the roster on his way inside. He sat in his locker room, already dressed in his ring attire and waited, still halfway convinced that the phone call he'd made last night had been a mistake.

He ran a hand over his smooth, for the first time in ten years, jaw line. He'd shaved it all off after the last house show, when he'd looked at himself in the mirror and realized that he was starting to look disturbingly like the way he had when he'd formed the Straight Edge Society.

"You know, shaving doesn't make any less of an asshole," a voice called from the doorway.

Punk looked over and couldn't help the smirk that formed on his face. "No but being less of an asshole does. I think I'm getting soft." He stood, turned to face the man, who had crossed his arms. His suit jacket stretched over his massive shoulders and biceps.

"Maybe you are. You did call me and ask for help." There was a fair amount of amusement in Hunter's voice as he said these words.

"But you came here," Punk pointed out and he was a bit surprised about that. Punk had buried his grudge against Triple H the night the man had come down to the ring and saved his ass from Miz and Truth months ago but he had, before that, taken every opportunity to ridicule him.

"Yeah? Well, don't make the mistake of thinking I'm getting soft." But his eyebrows drew together in a frown then. "I've seen what's been happening between Cena and Kane. But Kane's a vet now. He wouldn't dare pull the kind of shit you're accusing him of."

Punk raised an eyebrow. He noted that Hunter was offering no such assurances about Chris and he was sure Hunter was wrong about Kane. Maybe a year ago, that could be said about Kane, but now….

"Really? You sure about that? Kane seems even more obsessed with going back to being the guy he was in the nineties than he is with anything else. That guy wouldn't have cared. That guy tried his best to put Undertaker out of action on more than one occasion."

Hunter rubbed a hand over his chin. "If anyone takes Cena out before Wrestlemania, before he can face Rock…they know how pissed Vince and the board will be. They've already started billing that match as "once in a lifetime". Kane knows that. Jericho knows that."

Punk grimaced. "Chris has already left twice. He doesn't give a shit what they do to him." He paused. "You've said before that I've never lied to you. So, I'm not lying now. Chris is great a bluffing but I know him. He's not this time. And I kind of think Kane is a little desperate to get back to that 'monster' he was in 97."

Hunter seemed to consider this a moment and Punk waited him out. He hoped Hunter helped him because his only other option was to try and take both Chris and Kane out himself. Which was doable, if he planned it right, but still a lot more dangerous. It wasn't as if Chris couldn't find a way to hurt John afterwards. Punk was sure that Chris could be a vindictive bastard even from a hospital bed.

"I think about it," Hunter finally answered and Punk sighed.

"Fine, alright. Thanks," he offered reluctantly.

Xxxxxxxxx

Rage simmered slowly in John's chest as he made his way into the arena. The ambulance match he'd been scheduled in wouldn't be until the end of the night but he had gotten there before the first match, which would be the WWE title match.

He wouldn't admit to himself the reason behind his early arrival. Couldn't admit that he knew how dangerous the Elimination Chamber could be, that he might be a bit worried about the injuries he knew Punk could obtain during that match.

This was sure to be a bad night, no matter if he won or not.

Xxxxxxxxx

Finding Kane was a bit harder than expected. Hunter had known Kane for nearly fifteen years and, the more he walked, the more convinced he was that Punk had been right. Hunter had been there for Kane's debut and the following years of his career.

Kane had come into the company as the monster that his nickname suggested but it had been Undertaker and Paul Bearer that had turned him into that monster. Over the years, that hatred had died down and Kane had begun to resemble a person.

He had also watched what Kane had been doing to Cena and Kane's obsession with getting Cena to accept hate had seemed a little strange to him. Maybe it wasn't about Cena at all, though. Maybe it _was _about being that monster that had made his debut at Bad Blood again.

Hunter did find Kane, however. The room Kane was sitting in was dark and the door was open. Hunter sighed and flipped on the light switch to gain the man's attention. The dark glare he received did not faze him.

"Hey, Glen," Hunter said with a smirk.

"Don't call me that." Kane stood and his words had been measured, his tone harsh.

"Why not? It's your name isn't it?" Hunter studied him a moment. "Put the mask back on, I see. Feeling nostalgic?"

"What are you doing here?" Kane stepped closer to him but the extra inches he had on Hunter did nothing to faze him. He simply glared back.

"I came to talk about your new obsession with Cena. And I came with a warning."

"A warning?" Kane laughed then, the sound completely humorless. "You're here to protect Cena."

Hunter shrugged. "I'm still your boss, even if I'm not general manager," he pointed out. "I still have the power to fire you or," he grinned, "you could spend the rest of your career working dark matches and Superstars…"

Kane took a few more threatening steps towards him and Hunter's smile only widened. "Think about it before you do it, Kane." When Kane remained still, Hunter continued, "here's the deal. You're going to go out of your way to make sure Cena's not injured tonight and then, after that, you're going to leave him alone. And if you don't, it's going to be more than me wanting your ass out."

Xxxxxxxxx

Punk knelt at the open doorway of the chamber, yelling a question at the refs who were tending to Jericho. He had to suppress a smile at the sight of Chris lying unconscious on the floor. He hadn't actually meant for it to happen but it looked like he'd gotten some bit of revenge when one of them informed him that they were taking Chris to the back, that he couldn't continue.

Xxxxxxxxx

"You did it?" Punk asked, mildly surprised, into his phone as he made his way down the hallway of the hotel.

_"Gave the same warning to both Jericho and Kane. You might want to watch your back, though. I don't think Jericho's too happy with you right now." _

"I can take care of Jericho, as long as I don't have to worry about the both of them going after John." He fell silent a moment before asking something else. "Why did you do it by the way? I wasn't even sure you'd help me when I called."

"_I have told you before that I do things for the good of the business_," Hunter reminded him. "_Cena injured just before Wrestlemania is not good for business." _

"Right, sure." Punk smirked a little. He'd gotten the impression that Hunter had started liking him during and after their brief time as tag team partners. And he was sure that had something to do with Punk being one of the only three on the roster that hadn't walked out on Hunter when he'd been running RAW.

"_I'm being serious about Jericho. I don't even think I can keep him from going after you." _

"Aw, you almost sound worried there, Hunter," Punk said, his smirk widening.

"_I'm not worried about you. I'm worried about the bottom line. And I'm hanging up now. This does not make us friends." _

Punk made a face even though Hunter couldn't see it. "Why would I ever think that?" He asked just before Hunter hung up on him.

His good humor evaporated almost immediately after he'd pocketed his phone and he realized that he was close to the room he'd been looking for. This wasn't going to be pretty and there was probably a ninety nine percent chance that it wasn't going to go in his favor.

Xxxxxxxxxx

The night hadn't been as bad as he thought it would be. John had won his match against Kane and he did feel better about that. At the very least, he had gotten some retribution. It didn't make him happy…he was sure nothing would at the moment, but it at least lifted something off his shoulders.

As had Punk's retention, no matter how much he didn't want to admit it. He'd sat cringing all the way through the chamber match and his stomach had rolled when Jericho had slammed the pod door against Punk's shoulder.

And John had seen the satisfied light in Punk's eyes when Jericho had been knocked out of the match. He was pretty sure no one else would have seen it but he had. There was a part of him that wanted to be sick at Punk being happy that he might have seriously injured the man. The bigger part of him, however, was relieved that it obviously meant Punk and Jericho were not together.

As if it mattered. As if he hadn't already seen proof of that the past few weeks on RAW. And he wondered, again, why he was thinking about this stuff. It really didn't matter. Punk still wasn't with him.

A knock on his door brought him out of his thoughts and he heaved himself up off his bed with a sigh. When he opened his door, he froze. Standing, looking uncomfortable with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans was Punk.

"Hi."


	18. Chapter 18

John had his gaze trained on the carpet as Punk spoke. He was sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, Punk across from him in one of the chairs in the room. John hadn't spoken since Punk had started with his explanations.

The swirling mess of emotions that had started as soon as he had opened his door and found Punk standing there was getting worse. He was angry, disbelieving, in pain. But the words did sink in.

That Jericho had attacked Punk and threatened John, that Jericho had attempted-and succeeded-in destroying his relationship with Punk. That Punk had allowed him to do it. And then there was the disbelief, the uncertainty that Punk was telling the truth.

"John?"

He stood abruptly. "You need to go," he said. Punk stood as well.

"John-"

"What exactly did you expect with this?" He turned to face Punk fully. "You let Jericho do this? You let him force you into this? And that's only if you're telling the truth."

"I am telling the truth." There was no anger in Punk's voice, however, which for some reason, only made John angrier.

"And you expected what? That telling me this would simply make everything alright again? You should have told me from the beginning." He really hated the lies.

"No," Punk admitted but from the look on his face, John guessed that had been what he was hoping. His hands were back in his pockets but he didn't flinch away from John's angry gaze. "I didn't expect that but I couldn't risk you getting hurt."

"Great job on that one," John said sarcastically. "I wasn't hurt at all when you broke things off."

"I'm sorry-"

"Its not enough," John cut him off. "I can't just go back to where we were before, especially after the way you lied. And now I'm not even sure if you're still lying or not…"

"I love you." Punk blurted the words out, stopping John cold. Punk even seemed surprised that he'd said it but after a moment, when he spoke again, there was sincerity in his tone. "I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if they had followed through because I _am _in love with you."

They were both silent for a minute, Punk waiting for his response, and John swore he saw fear in his eyes. For a second, he wanted to pull Punk to him, wanted to respond in kind but he couldn't, couldn't yet get passed the lies, couldn't get past the weeks of misery he'd had to endure because of those lies.

"I thought I told you to leave." This time, Punk did flinch at his tone and he nodded, for the first time refusing to meet John's gaze. He left the room slowly, without another word.

It wasn't until several minutes after he'd left that John fell back to sit on his bed again and he rested his head in his hands.

Xxxxxxxx

It should have been expected. Punk had tried not to get his hopes up, had known that there was a big chance that John wouldn't want him with him anymore. He'd told himself that several times but the pain was still there after he left John's room.

He supposed telling someone you loved them only to be told to leave would always hurt, no matter how much you prepared yourself for that outcome. And it did…hurt. Hurt even worse that he deserved it.

He'd always kind of figured he'd be the one to screw up his relationship with John.

Xxxxxxxx

RAW came and went, leaving Punk in an even worse mood. As soon as he'd heard about the battle royal to decide the number one contender for his title, he'd expected it to be Chris and he'd been right. Chris had won.

It looked like Hunter had been right. Chris did not look happy with him but Kane hadn't shown all night, at least, and Chris hadn't gone after John either. At the very least, one thing had come out of the mess.

He couldn't make himself worry too much about Chris though. Not after what had happened with John. The cloud of depression that had settled around him after he'd left John's room wouldn't leave.

He'd felt this before. He'd only ever been in love with two people and one of those people was going to be coming after him heading into Wrestlemania. And he couldn't quite believe that he had ever loved Chris in the way that he loved John.

Xxxxxxxx

RAW was awful. John had used some of the anger and pain he'd been feeling since he'd kicked Punk out of his room to fuel himself. He'd cut down Eve first, and then Rock. It had been easy, those promos. The words had flowed easily, easier than they usually did.

He'd also watched the battle royal and knew that Jericho was number one contender now but he couldn't worry about that. He'd kicked Punk out. Punk had told John that he loved him and he'd kicked the man out. He'd made that final decision. He didn't have the right to worry.

_It was the right decision. _He had to keep telling himself that. He had to keep reminding himself of the pain Punk had caused him. Because he wouldn't let someone do that to him again. He couldn't.

But Punk's words had affected him. Because he had wanted to respond in a completely different manner. He did love Punk. He was in love with Punk. He just wasn't sure if he could trust Punk any longer.


	19. Chapter 19

"What is going on with you?" The deep, familiar voice brought John out of his thoughts. He'd been spacing out, staring off while he sat on the locker room bench but now he looked over at Randy.

"What?"

Randy rolled his eyes. "What's wrong with you?"

"There's nothing wrong with me," John said, tried to make his voice sound firm.

Randy snorted and shook his head. "Yeah, sure. That why you've been looking like you lost your best friend recently?"

John only shrugged. He'd been hoping to avoid a conversation like this. Randy had been on Smackdown and had had a few injuries as of late so he hadn't really had a chance to say anything to John. And Randy was one of the few friends John had backstage that was brave enough to call him out on things, to be so blunt with him.

"You and Punk break up or something?" Randy asked, _bluntly. _

John flinched at the question but sighed. "Yes, actually," he admitted.

Randy didn't look so surprised at this. "Yeah, figured. Saw him earlier and he looks even worse than you. What the hell happened?"

John hesitated a moment but, maybe he did need to tell someone. It usually wasn't in his nature to hold crap in and he hadn't wanted to tell his family. Randy was someone who would be completely honest with him too. So, he launched into the story, told Randy everything. From the threats from the break up, to Punk's explanation for it and his confession of love.

"You love him?" Randy asked when he had finished.

John shook his head. "What does that matter?"

"It matters," Randy said firmly.

"He lied," John pointed out. "He let Jericho destroy what we had-"

"To protect you," Randy cut him off. "Maybe you two have more in common than anyone thought."

"What are you talking about?" John asked with narrowed eyes.

"Come on, John. I know you. I've known you since we both started in OVW. I've been one of those guys like Jericho, gone after you the same way he's going after Punk. I put you in the hospital once, remember?"

"I remember," John said through gritted teeth. "Are you trying to piss me off even more?"

"I'm just sayin'. If you two were going out back then…If I'd threatened to do the same to Punk if you didn't break things off with him and, say, if I had back up. What would you have done?"

"I would've…" John trailed off before he could finish and frowned. Randy hadn't been threatening anyone he'd been dating back then but he had been threatening John's family. He would have done anything to keep Randy away from his father.

"This whole backwards nobility thing…Knew you had it. Didn't know Punk had it too."

"But he lied…"

"And maybe he's an asshole for the way he went about it. Hell, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you wouldn't have done the same thing if you were in his position. But maybe none of that should matter if you love the guy."

John stared at him a moment. "Since when are you an advocate for forgiveness?"

"Since my wife forgave me for shit she probably shouldn't have. I know she's it for me, John. And if you think Punk might be it for you, you need to work things out with him."

"I don't know if that's a good idea…"

"Nobody's perfect, man," Randy pointed out. "He made a wrong decision for the right reasons. You should ask yourself what you would have done. And then ask yourself if you love him enough to work this out."

John was silent after this and he looked away from Randy, still a little surprised at the conversation and at Randy's response. But maybe he was right…

Xxxxxxxxx

The week following the rejection from John was even worse for Punk. By the time RAW rolled around again, he felt awful. Lack of sleep and not eating the way he should have left him that way. It was exceptionally difficult to focus on Bryan.

He'd had one big mess of a match with Bryan on Smackdown, where four other people, including both GM's, had gotten involved and the rematch scheduled for the start of RAW was sure to be just as bad.

And it was. After a confrontation with Jericho that had left him seething, he and Bryan had started. The ending of the match had been just as screwed up as the one they'd had on Smackdown, with no real winner.

It was what happened after the match that had sent him reeling again. The attack from Jericho, the slam on the steel, followed by the Walls of Jericho had him writhing on the floor, clutching at his back and unable to leave the ramp without help.

All in all, he'd had a really bad week.

Xxxxxxxxx

John was still sitting beside Randy, both their gazes on the monitors, when Punk's match with Bryan started. Randy's words were still rolling around in his head. He didn't really want to think about them.

But when Jericho had attacked Punk, when he'd seen the agony written on Punk's face, his breath had hitched and he'd stood from his seat without thinking. He paused when he'd realized what he'd done but his gaze didn't drift from the screen until the cameras cut away. He glanced at Randy, who raised his hands.

"You should go find him if you want," Randy suggested.

John only hesitated another moment before he left the locker room, heading for the trainer's room.

Xxxxxxxxx

He was sure that he wouldn't be getting up from the table anytime soon. Punk was on his stomach in the trainer's room. The agony in his back hadn't died down quite yet and he'd had his eyes closed since he'd been brought in, kept them closed as he was checked over.

Chris was most definitely pissed.

A soft touch on his shoulder had him opening his eyes and he turned his head so he could see who was standing there. Expecting to see the trainer, he was surprised to find John there, an unreadable look on his face.

"What are you…?"

"You alright?" John asked softly.

"Sure," he said, his eyes closing again. "Why are you here?"

"Later. We can talk later," John answered. "I just had to…" He trailed off but Punk simply let it go.

"Okay." He reached blindly for John then and was surprised when John grabbed his hand, surprised when John did not pull away.


	20. Chapter 20

I cannot tell you guys how happy I am about the Bryan/Punk feud. Maybe they'll finally get to have a match that doesn't end in a disqualification. All I know is that, like their other matches, it will be awesome!

Xxxxxxxxx

Groaning a bit, Punk pushed himself up into a sitting position. John had left not too long ago and Punk had missed his match but he didn't want to miss the end of the show. Rock was supposed to be there.

He'd just gotten to his feet and forced himself to straighten up, his back to the door when it banged open. He had managed to turn around when Chris came at him. The shove threw him off balance and his already screaming back hit the edge of the table he'd just gotten off of.

He fell, a gasp escaping him, and the agony in his back flared once again. The kick that Chris landed next, right on the small of his back had him crying out and then Chris was pushing him over onto his back.

Chris' fingers wrapped around his wrists in a bruising grip and he sat on Punk's hips, effectively holding him to the floor. He tried to draw back when Chris pressed close, his face inches from Punk's.

"Get off me," he growled through gritted teeth, trying to buck Jericho off even though it caused the pain to hike up another few notches.

"But I'm having so much fun," Chris said with a grin. His eyes were lit up and he looked psychotic in that moment, and obsessed. "I just wanted to send a little message."

"Fuck you."

Chris laughed and leaned even closer. "I wanted to tell you that you got your wish. I'm not going to be going after Cena after all. From now on, my attention is focused solely on you."

"Lucky me. More attacking me from behind? You're a fucking coward." Punk glared up at him. Chris squeezed his wrists harder in response, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to cut the circulation off to his hands but Punk kept going, rage fueling his words.

"You've always been a coward, haven't you? You were a coward before you left and you're a coward now."

Chris only smirked at that, his lips inches from Punk's. "You know, this does seem familiar doesn't it?"

Punk's eyes widened and he started struggling harder against Chris' hold. The smirk widening on Chris' face let him know exactly what Chris was thinking. Before anything else could happen, however, Chris was pulled off him and thrown to the floor. Punk sat up immediately.

"You might want to leave." The newcomer's voice held a warning and the thick Irish accent told Punk exactly who it was before he looked up to see Sheamus standing there. Chris scrambled up and, with one last glare in Punk's direction, he fled the room.

"Alright there?" Sheamus asked, offering a hand.

Punk nodded, and let Sheamus pull him to his feet. "Yeah. Thanks." But he almost slid right back down to the floor when he tried to straighten up. Sheamus' hold on his arm was the only thing that kept him standing in that moment.

Chris had been trying to scare him, he knew that. That position had been familiar from the time they'd been together. They'd often ended up in some pretty vicious fights before it turned into something else.

Sheamus ended up pushing him back towards the table until he sat down again. "What's going on?"

Punk glanced around Sheamus to see John standing in the doorway and Sheamus looked between the two men. "Good luck with all that," he said, patting Punk on the shoulder before leaving the room.

"Something happen?" John asked, stepping closer to him.

Punk slumped a little where he was sitting, both attacks and a week of barely sleeping catching up to him. He had to struggle to stay upright. John saw it and reached for him, steadying him. Punk knew that he was probably still pissed but he leaned into John anyway.

"Tell me what happened," John requested quietly, wrapping one arm around Punk.

"Chris-" He started but as soon as the name left his lips, John began to pull away from him and he cut off. "Wait, don't go."

"Why not?" John asked angrily. "This has to stop. This is the second time he's attacked you backstage…"

"I know…I just…" He tried to pull John back to him. He was hurting and so exhausted he could barely see straight and this was the closest he'd been able to get to John in weeks. He needed it to last, needed John to stay.

John's expression shifted at the look on Punk's face. "Come on," he said softly, and helped Punk off the table.

Xxxxxxxxx

John helped Punk all the way back to the hotel. Neither one of them spoke on the way there and when they made it to Punk's hotel room and he dropped face first on his bed, John stood hesitant beside the bed, unsure of what he should do.

They needed to talk. They needed to get everything out into the open but bringing it up when Punk was dead on his feet and hurt didn't seem like a good idea. He considered leaving the room then, going back to his own hotel room and attempting to sleep.

Punk turned his head in John's direction. "Are you going to stay?" There was insecurity in that question that John had never heard in Punk's tone before and John sighed. He got into the bed and, after a moment, pulled Punk to him until the man's head was resting on his shoulder and he had his arms wrapped around Punk.

"I know we need to talk," Punk started, his eyes closed.

"We'll talk tomorrow," John said, settling down. "Just…go to sleep, alright?"

There was a silence for a minute. "I love you," Punk whispered just as John was sure he was asleep. His breathing did even out a few seconds later and John held him a little tighter. It took him a lot longer to drift off to sleep.


	21. Chapter 21

It was later than he'd thought it would be. Punk was sitting up in John's bed, one knee pulled up and he'd slept. He'd slept rather well, actually. Granted, he hadn't slept a while and he had been nearing the point of passing out when John had dragged him back to his hotel room the night before but he was still surprised he'd slept as much as he had.

He'd been awake for less than ten minutes and could hear the shower running in the bathroom. He should probably get up. His back ached horribly and he knew he should probably try and start working that out but he needed to wait. Needed to wait for John to get out.

They still hadn't talked at all. As grateful as he was that John had helped him out after Jericho's attack, he was still worried that John was going to ask him to leave again. Last night was a little fuzzy for him but he hadn't missed the fact that John hadn't answered him at all when Punk had confessed his feelings…again.

When the shower finally turned off, Punk sighed and crossed his legs, waiting. The door opened, and John came out putting a white shirt over his head. Punk watched him a little warily and John stared at a moment after he got his shirt on.

"You're still here," John said first, looking unsure of what to do.

"Yeah…you not want me to be?"

"No…I…" John shook his head. "We should probably talk."

"Yeah probably."

John sighed and dropped down in the chair near the bed. "Feeling alright?"

"I'll be fine," Punk answered, studying him a moment.

John nodded and looked down a moment. "I was worried…"

Punk shrugged. "Yeah, figured." He got that. Even though he was pretty sure John was still mad at him…After all, he was pretty sure if they'd switched places if he was the one angry with John that he still wouldn't want to see John injured.

"Randy said I should talk to you, said I should really think about this some more."

"Randy?" Punk paused a moment and gave him an incredulous look. "Randy Orton?"

"Yep." John almost smiled at his tone. He shifted a little in his seat and then stood, began to pace. He seemed to be fighting with himself for a few minutes before he sat down on the bed. "I don't want to be mad at you anymore."

"But you are…"

John shrugged. "You still lied. And I've still been miserable because of that," he admitted.

Punk nodded and looked away. "Always figured I'd be the one to screw this up. I know I'm not the nicest guy in the world. Just never thought I'd do it this way."

John chewed his lip and spoke hesitantly, "except maybe you didn't…totally screw this up."

Punk's gaze snapped back to his. "What?"

"You _can't _do this to me again," John said with some intensity.

"I won't."

"I don't think I can handle something like this again."

"It won't happen again." There was a promise in Punk's eyes as he said it and John believed him in that moment. John leaned towards him and their lips connected for the first time in what felt like too long.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I can't be mad at you anymore." John kissed him again, this time longer, pulling Punk until he was almost sitting in his lap. It felt good, to be that close again. And he found that Randy had been right.

When he pulled back he stared into Punk's eyes a moment. "I love you too," he finally said and the real smile that he got in return was worth everything.

Xxxxxxxxx

For the first time in what felt like a long time, John was content. Punk's back pressed against his bare chest, his arm wrapped around the man. He'd hated being away, hated how he had felt during the time they'd been broken up.

Letting it go had been easier than he'd expected. He supposed seeing Punk hurt had helped with that. And Randy. He was going to have to thank Randy later for that because he did love Punk and losing that for good was something, he'd realized, he didn't want to do.

This thing with Jericho, however, was something that was still troubling him. Something definitely needed to be done. He didn't want to have to worry that every time he left Punk alone, he'd get attacked.

John may not have known Jericho as well as Punk, obviously, but he did know the guy. He'd seen how Jericho had gone after other guys too. How he'd gone after Shawn. He was worried and angry.

Maybe he should do something about it. Whatever Punk said about keeping out of it, John was in it anyway. He'd been in it from the moment Jericho had coerced Punk into breaking things off with him.

Something needed to be done.

Xxxxxxxxx

There was definitely something right about this. At least Punk thought so. Sitting up in bed, a comic settled in one hand, John fast asleep beside him. It felt right anyway. More so than anything else he'd ever felt even.

More so than any other relationship he'd ever had.

Granted, he hadn't had a lot of relationships that went so far. His longest relationship before John had been with Chris and that hadn't been healthy in any way. He frowned slightly at the thought. He really did need to do something about Chris.

The man was already taking the grudge he had a bit too far but Punk couldn't ever say that he was completely surprised about that. Chris had always been a vindictive bastard. It had been something they'd had in common at one point.

Punk grimaced slightly as he thought over everything that had happened since Chris had gotten back. Even if he didn't go into his break up with John, Chris had gotten the drop on him an embarrassing amount of times.

He needed to do something about that. Maybe he needed to get back in touch with that side of himself. That side that could be just as equally vindictive and vicious as Chris could be…


	22. Chapter 22

Everyone watch the pay per view? I love both Punk and Bryan even more after that.

This is my last chapter of this story. I was thinking of writing a sequel at some point dealing with all the personal stuff Jericho brought up in his feud with Punk if anyone's interested but this seemed like a good place to end this one.

Xxxxxxx

Chris was satisfied as he walked towards the parking lot after his match during the first house show of the week. He passed several people on his way but ignored them but was walking down a deserted hallway when he heard a door open behind him. He ignored that as well, and that turned out to be a mistake. In fact, he didn't even have time to think that it was a mistake when a sharp pain hit him and then his vision went completely dark.

Xxxxxxxx

It wasn't hard, Punk reflected idly, to be that guy. His gaze was focused on Chris as he waited patiently for the man to wake on his own. He wasn't sure where that patience came from but he felt in no hurry. He had Chris and this time things would work in his favor.

It was easy to think like that again, to be that guy again. The guy who had beaten Jeff Hardy until he could barely move before driving him out of the company. The guy who had tormented Rey Mysterio's family. The guy who had threatened Randy Orton's wife.

He grinned humorlessly when Chris finally began to wake up and stepped closer to the man. Arms crossed, he stared down at Chris and waited until the disorientation passed and Chris looked up at him and began fighting against the ropes that Punk had bound him to the chair he was sitting in.

"Hey, Chris. I think we need to talk." He bent forward, his smile only widening when Chris tried to speak through the gag. "Oh, sorry. That's right, you can't. So I guess you'll just have to listen while I talk."

The glare Chris shot him was full of hatred and Punk titled his head a little. He wanted to see fear in those blue eyes.

"I've been thinking about what to do about you for the past several days. But this…this is all very familiar, isn't it? We've been here before, haven't we?"

The memories of all the screwed up scenarios he and Chris had played out during their screwed up relationship had come back to him when he'd been debating on what he should do about Chris. His relationship with Chris had happened when he was at his darkest. When he'd been unstable and a little bit crazy.

"You deserve to be punished, don't you think? After everything you've done?"

Chris was still trying to yell at him through the gag and his glare still held nothing but hatred. Punk only shrugged, straightened and kicked the leg of the chair, watched as Chris fell backwards. Walking around, he knelt and put his knee to Chris' throat, putting just enough pressure there to make Chris squirm.

"Did you really think you would get away with everything you've done to me since you came back?" Rage colored his tone and he removed his knee from Chris throat, leaned close to the man, replaced his knee with his hand.

"I thought about doing the same thing to you that you did to me. Thought about just putting you in the hospital. I'm still thinking about that option."

When he leaned so close that their noses were almost touching, when he squeezed hard enough that Chris was having trouble breathing, he finally saw it. That fear. He wasn't sure if it was because of the pressure on his throat or because of the look in his eyes. Whatever it was, he grinned again and put his lips next to Chris' ear.

"I want you to think about it, Chris, while you're lying here. You have a couple of options. Either you leave the fighting we do in the ring or you can ignore this warning and I can take it a few steps farther next time. And you can look into my eyes and tell me if I'm capable of doing that."

He released Chris suddenly, stood up and stared down at the man. Chris' eyes widened when he started to turn away, to leave the room.

"Don't worry. I'm sure someone will find you at some point. Maybe before they close this place down for the night." He waved and then he was out the door and heading back towards his locker room to find John.

Xxxxxxxxx

John sighed as he got changed back into his street clothes. Punk had disappeared sometime during his match and John was worried. He knew Jericho was supposed to be there for the house show and John had debated on whether or not to find the man himself and beat some sense into him or to wait.

But Punk disappearing could mean that Jericho had gotten the drop on him again and John stood from the bench after he put his tennis shoes on, intending to leave the room to find Punk. He hadn't even started across the room, however, when the door opened and Punk came inside.

"Hey, where've you been?" John asked. He eyed the man when he saw the smile on Punk's face.

"Had to take care of something. You ready to get out of here?"

"Yeah." He stood and grabbed his back, slinging it over his shoulder before following Punk out. "What were you doing?" He pressed as they walked towards the parking lot.

"You said it yourself. Something had to be done about Jericho…"

"You did something to Jericho?" John asked, with mild disappointment. He would have liked to be in on that.

"Gave him a bit of a warning." There was a light in Punk's eyes that made John wonder if that warning had just been a verbal one.

"Think it worked?"

Punk shrugged. "Probably not but if it didn't, I got other ways to make Chris listen."

"Hey, I believe you're capable of holding anyone's attention, Punk."

Punk paused, stopped by the car they'd driven from the hotel. "You know, you could call me…by my first name."

John stopped as well and a bright smile spread across his face. "I could?"

"Yeah." He groaned at the look on John's face. "It's not a big deal."

"Sure." But it was a big deal. Punk was in that generation of wrestlers who never used their real names. John was sure the only people who used his real name were the people he considered family so that offer meant that…

"I love you…Phil."

And Punk only grinned and answered easily. "Love you too."


End file.
